Fortune's Disfavored
by SquareBlock
Summary: The Chosen Undead thought a trip centuries back in time to the ancient land of Oolacile would be the oddest incident he was ever involved in, yet an encounter with the primordial man sent him to a place beyond his understanding. With a new, shattered moon amongst the stars, he's left searching for a way back to Lordran. He had a destiny to fufill, after all. He was chosen.
1. A Dark Gaze

_**Edit: Formal thanks to my new beta-reader,** **ekaterina016, who is going back, rereading my chapters, and doing an excellent job cleaning up a lot of mistakes I didn't catch. I'll be updating chapters accordingly as he finishes his work.**_

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If he ever found himself alone in a room, none to judge within earshot, he'd admit aloud to being fearful. More fearful than he had ever been, and would likely ever be, which was as odd a feeling as he had ever experienced. It was as unfamiliar a feeling as any he knew; it left him to ponder why he was feeling so hesitant. Perhaps it was because the odds had never been quite so stacked against him?

Who wouldn't he be scared, really? He was about to face something which had rendered the legendary knight Artorias, the Abysswalker himself, as little more than a corrupted husk, a mere shadow of his once-glorious self. A terrifying prospect, indeed.

Of course, he had dealt with seemingly insurmountable odds in the past. He had defeated the dynamic duo of Ornstein and Smough, albeit with a few attempts and much difficulty. He had also freed the infected corpse who dared to impersonate the _real_ knight Artorias. He had faced Gravelord Nito in his tomb, and reigned victorious. He also braved the Duke Archives to find and slain Seath the Scaleless. The mother of demons which resided at the base of Lost Izalith, too, fell at his hand.

Yet, the Abyss awoke that primal instinct of _fear_ in him more than anything he had ever encountered. The feeling of it, the sight – it was why he had avoided the Four Kings of New Londo for as long as he had. The Abyss made his skin crawl, and he feared that might be a bit more literal if he failed to defeat Manus in his first attempt.

Indeed, if left in a room by himself, he would admit to being scared, fearful, and hesitant. Yet he was never alone, as he's either with the enemies who seemed to constantly surround him, or his allies who slowly disappeared, one by one, as he delved further and further into his journey. Until the time he was truly and well alone, he would remain the beacon of hope he was expected to be. It was, after all, his duty.

He was chosen.

"Hmm, the Greataxe of the Black Knights, or the Demon Machete…" He wondered aloud, staring at the two weapons in front of him with narrowed eyes. His head inclined slowly as his gaze settled to the right.

It was another great decision made. "Quite right."

The debate over, he returned the Demon Machete back into his bottomless box. It was his best kept secret; he kept the peculiar box which had been bought remarkably cheap in a pouch near his side, only made possible by the box's ability to shrink to the size no greater than that of a ring.

The box was easily the best investment he had made in his entire journey. Just the thought of not having it at his side made him shudder – without it, his arsenal would be no more than six or so weapons at most! Just the thought made him sick; it was unthinkable. He was a hoarder, keeping every single makeshift weapon he could find and lift. Given his relative strength, that was _every_ weapon he encountered, even those he could hardly picture himself using. From a large, poison-soaked branch to a demon hammer made of arch stone, he had them all.

The art of combat was one he was distinctively familiar with and most definitely what he was best known for. He could admire it in its many forms, and oh, how many forms there was! There was a certain beauty in each one, yet far more often combat was a grotesque, brutal thing. Even still, he found beauty in that.

He'd hardly consider himself an expert in every type of weapon which could be wielded; he wasn't that arrogant. However, he _had_ wielded most of the ones he had come across in some way or another. Versatility was key. He hardly saw a reason to fight hollows and men with a weapon meant for slaying demons, after all. It was impractical at best. Though with his strength, there was _some_ satisfaction to be found in sending them flying a dozen feet or more.

On the rare occasions when a conventional weapon might not be perfect for a given situation, he'd use his trusty pyromancy or sorcery. While slightly fonder of the former compared to the latter, it was a negligible difference. He was a master of both, through no real skill of his own. His teachers had been something incredible, after all, and he believed quite frankly they could have turned a demented hollow into an expert in the particular fields of study each had practiced.

…well, perhaps they had!

Clearing away the chuckle in his throat before it could manifest, he instead focused on something else about his magic: the application was a skill of his own making. It would not be bold to say he knew how to wield magic better in combat than his master teachers ever had been able. He was a beacon of experience, painful and… well, mostly painful. His particular brand of the Dark Sign disallowed such a silly concept as release and hollowing. A killing blow left a scar on his refurbished flesh, not a corpse.

Still, he never failed to remember his masters were the ones who had taught him the actual casts. They had enabled him in more ways than he cared to count. It was impossible to pay them back, both while they'd all been alive, and especially now, when they were dead or gone.

It was somewhat ironic, given his current situation in being a few centuries back in the past. Time and Lordran had no issue dragging him back to fix issues he _hadn't_ caused, but those of his own making? They were cast in arch stone, unbreakable and forever true.

Gah. If there was something of value to be found in regret, he and many others had yet to find it. It had served no purpose for those before him, and it would serve no purpose to him, either. Some might say what he was currently doing also served no purpose, though it was something he preferred not to think about.

It was a conundrum, in the simplest words. If in the future the spread of Oolacile's Abyss outbreak had been relatively masked or otherwise extinguished, did he even have to do anything, now that he's back in the past? Or would there be no impact in the future only _because_ he was here, seemingly the only one capable of eliminating Manus and stopping the spread.

That was the plan, anyways.

Going through said barrel of thought about time travel made his head spin. Time was convoluted, as they say, and it certainly had yet to get any clearer in his stray through Lordran. Nothing _ever_ got clearer, not even here in Oolacile, which was apparently far enough from Lordran to be considered a different kingdom. He certainly wished he could have seen it at its peak, as a great city it should be, as opposed to… whatever it was now. Everyone spoke of it as though something great: a mighty kingdom.

To him, it seemed to be nothing but a source of pain and suffering. None were spared the pain it dished out: from giants, gods, to men, all suffered with hardly anything to show for it. And why? To his knowledge, arrogant leaders thought they could harness the Abyss. Practically suicide, far as he was concerned, but perhaps not everyone was as in touch with their base instincts as he was.

…it was always them, though, wasn't it? Those unaffected by the regular people's woes… he'd kill them himself if he had the chance.

The only thing he could admire about the entire kingdom was the magic they wielded. Such odd, elegant magic it was. Unlike the other sorceries which would often be passed around, they kept theirs within the kingdom – at least, he assumed so. Sorcery didn't simply get forgotten with time otherwise. While still under the same branch of Soul Sorceries which had long since been developed, the people of Oolacile did not cast mighty Soul Spears, capable of breaking the thickest of breastplates, nor did they augment their blades in the blue hue of the soul manifest, enhancing its capabilities far beyond ordinary metals.

No, theirs was far more interesting than the simple, brute force approach Vinheim and other kingdoms favored. The ability to hide oneself with the environment, to turn sword, shield, and body transparent, and cast lights which shone as brightly as the sun. Perhaps most useful was the ability to repair one's blade or shield with a simple cast.

If only Logan was still around; the old frog would have given his left leg to study such sorceries.

Sibyl paused in his steps, leaning over to take a peek down the cliff side.

…not that he gained much from it. He couldn't _see_ anything; it was complete and utter darkness. And here he was, going deeper and deeper into it without a companion, too. How wonderful.

The fog gate was in the distance, an eerie grey which seemed so out of place in the surrounding black. He'd still, after all this time, had no idea on how exactly they existed, nor why. He and Seeker Logan had discussed it at length, coming to a largely assumption-based conclusion it was a way demons and other powerful beings marked their territory.

There was also a theory it was a hunting tactic, more so for demons than the others. Demons _did_ hurt people, not fellow creatures. It made as much sense as anything else he could conclude, and given he was centuries in the past, it would have been ironic for him to say it made no sense.

…even if it _did_ make absolutely no sense. Nothing made sense, not anymore.

Sighing softly, he spared a glance around. Nothing was trying to kill him at the moment, so it seemed he had some time to try and figure out how in Izalith he was going to manage and get down _to_ the fog-gate. Reaching for a pouch at his hip, he retrieved a single, smooth prism-stone. They were quite useful as marker rocks; when shattered, the dust within them would glow quite spectacularly. They also smelled absolutely _awful_ when cracked open, but seeing as how he had ventured into the depths of Nito's Tomb, it wasn't the worst thing he'd ever had the displeasure of smelling.

Letting the rock fall from his fingers, it plummeted below, shattering with an echo. He didn't much care about the noise, though it was nice to hear safe falling distance. But, given his mastery of sorcery, falling distance hardly mattered. A simple spell of Fall Control would allow him to fall from damn near any height with nary a buckle of the knees. It made falling much more exhilarating than stressful. While he preferred the beauty of pyromancy, the conventional aspect of the Soul sorceries could not be argued.

Reaching down, he slid out the Oolacile Cataylst, an ivory branch from a magic-enchanted tree, which was tucked into his boot. His mind focused, picturing the cast as vividly as possible. From how it would look, how it would _function,_ all the information flowed through his mind. A moment later, he felt the spell wash over him, the enchantment taking affect. It was a warm feeling, as most sorceries were.

Well, there was hardly reason to wait around. Stepping forward, he fell, the air brushing against his face before his fall stopped as abruptly as it had begun. By the gods above, Fall Control was perhaps his favorite sorcery outside of Repair. Before his lessons in sorcery, he had been forced to judge such falls by his eyes alone.

His knees had shattered more than once, forcing him to either break a Homeward Bone or keep crawling until he could fall another cliff to fall off and _die from._ His back had been broken from one such fall, too.

Ignoring the spasm of phantom pain from that particular memory, he shook his head and adjusted the Black Knight Greataxe which rested against his shoulder. It was a weapon he had favored for some time, since his initial venture into the Catacombs. It served him well, primarily against the… larger foes he faced.

Assuming the hand which grabbed him and brought him into the past was no abnormality compared to the rest of him, Manus would be one of his largest foes yet. He figured a shield would be of little use against something that large, so he didn't even bother with one. Pyromancy would have far more usefulness in the fight to come.

There was another leap to be made before he could enter through the fog-gate. Getting a running start, he leapt, landing with a roll for conveniences's sake than any worry about lightening the impact. The gate was a dozen or so feet in front of him, yet it had never felt more far away.

His fingers brushed against the silver pendant around his neck, something which didn't belong to him nor anyone else, not anymore. It was far too useful a tool in combating the Abyss to simply be abandoned, however, so he would borrow it to put an end to the madness around him. This was it. _This was it._ Him versus Manus, Dusk's life and safety the only prize he was certain of. Whether his actions here would affect the future of Lordran… well, who knew.

With little more than an axe, a pilfered Astora Knight armor, and an assortment of magic, he would face the Abyss.

It had to be done, else he'd never manage to get back to Lordran and link the flame. Even if doing such only gave temporary relief to the undead, it'd give him peace everlasting.

Eyes closed, he forced himself through the fog-wall. The other side was hardly unfamiliar. It was exactly the same as everything else down here: dark and tinged with the Abyss. It was far quiter, however. The moans of the torment from those transformed couldn't be heard, not this far down.

The Sunlight Talisman at his waist found its way into his palm subconsciously. He rose a hand above, mouth moving in a silent prayer of familiar words. While he hardly liked miracles and the gods they represented, there was a particular brand he did practice. He'd hardly feel reasonable calling himself a Sunlight Warrior if he was unaware on how to conjure lightning bolts.

Said lightning bolt formed in his hand, sparks flying from it and its crackle filling the previous silence of the cavern. He tossed it, the spear flying like a javelin through the darkness. It illuminated the Abyss in a way only the sun could.

He spotted _it_ only for an instance, and no more.

A great beast which, perhaps long ago, could have called itself a man. It was just as dark as the rest of the Abyss, complete with glowing, red eyes all over.

He tensed, sliding his left foot backwards as he readied for combat.

It turned out he wasn't ready enough, as the same hand which had dragged him into the past kicking and screaming wrapped around him again. He struggled in vain against the suffocating grip, attempting to conjure a flame in his hand to burn the damn thing off. Before he could do so, however, there was a roar from below and he found himself thrown.

He slammed against the ground painfully, digging up the dirt beneath him as he slid.

Damn it. He wasn't going to beat Manus if he got slung around so easily. Forcing himself back to his feet, he cursed, readying his axe back against his shoulder. The area they were fighting in was more natural than he expected; there was a pillar ahead, indicating that this, much like the rest of Oolacile, had once been more than just a feeding ground for the Abyss.

Eventually, it sauntered forward, the ground shaking lightly with his every move. Manus got close enough for him to see the being in full, ant it was quite the sight. A head full of horns, not to mention red eyes everywhere except where eyes _should_ be. One arm was small and thing, holding a catalyst of some sort, while the other was thicker than the torso of some demons, covered in a black fur which moved as if it was alive.

 _This_ was what had caused everything. Perhaps not on its own, but it still had been the source of all the pain. It dragged him to the past, delaying his quest of self-sacrifice. It rid a woman of her love, a giant of his friend, and a great wolf of its master, not to mention the countless families who now resided as either an infected monster or black sprites.

Giving his best impression of Siegmeyer's roar, he charged forward.

Manus responded with a swing of his arm, aiming high and hoping to take his head off with the first swing. Sibyl would have scoffed if he had the time to; he ducked his head, lowering the axe from his shoulder to drag along the ground. His left hand, previously free, came and grabbed the pole end of his weapon as it dug against the dirt below.

He slashed upwards, but Manus leaned back and avoided the blow. The primordial man retaliated with a swing of his staff, putting far too much power and rotating his deformed body. A simple step back and an adjustment of his Greataxe allowed him to avoid the bludgeoning attack, bringing his weapon down diagonally and getting a deep cut into the shoulder of his foe.

Manus roared in anger, a large, deformed arm coming overhead in a wild attack, trying to flatten him into little more than paste. It wasn't the first creature to try and do so, and it would not be the last. The tremors from each strike did make him lose his balance, but he managed to dance between the attacks.

He had lots of practice.

Managing to land a glancing cut, he was forced to roll backwards, using the weight of his axe head as a way to fling his body even further back and to the side. It created only a temporary space, however, as Manus leapt far higher than something that large should ever be able to. Not feeling too strongly about his ability to outrun it backwards or dodge it to the side, he made the split-second decision to sprint forward.

Manus's right foot came mere inches from decapitating him. The difference of inches often made a fight, so Sibyl hardly hesitated to slide to a stop and swing his axe back across his body overhead, turning his hips to get as much force in the attack as possible. It left a deep gash, and he felt his decision to use such a large weapon validated.

Death by a thousand cuts, while possible and a respectable choice, was not his preferred method of combat for anything more than triple his height and weight.

Sibyl hardly had time to think when Manus hit him with a backhand, its deformed arm sending him flying. If not for how thoroughly he had reinforced his Elite Knight Armor, Sibyl feared the fight might have ended right there. The blessing of Titanite, however, enabled his armor to take many a great blow.

He managed to shrug off the attack, adjusting himself in the air and landing on somewhat wobbly knees. Head ringing as loudly as the Parish Bell, he ignored it with a grunt. He had to. Leaping aside, the undead dodged, Manus's large hand impacted in an overhead smash where he had landed.

Foot against the dirt, he pushed off, going against the weight of his axe to swing it overhead and sideways, the thick, black metal slashing through the darkened flesh of the Abyssal Father. It slid out, but as he prepared for another swing, the attack hit nothing but air as Manus shuffled backwards.

Sibyl blinked, trying to figure out what in Izalith's name Manus's next move was going to be. It just… stood there, staring with silent anger. The undead's mouth opened in a silent curse when the beast of a man rose his catalyst to the air. Hand flying to his chest, he grasped the silver pendant which hung from his neck. The Abyss fell in large quantities, forming dark raindrops all around him, yet the enchanted pendant protected him from harm with a burst of a golden, blessed aura.

Letting it fall from his hand and back against his chest, he walked forward, his axe's pole held with both hands and resting against his shoulder. Manus, too, maneuvered forward. Things were silent for a few moments before Sibyl acted; he leapt forward, swinging his axe overhead with one hand. Simultaneously, his free hand conjured his favored pyromancy: Chaos Storm.

As his overhead swing missed and Manus stepped forward with the intent to crush him, his left hand pressed against the ground. Large, towering pillars of red formed all around him, multiplying underneath Manus himself. Beast of the Abyss or not, it _hurt,_ and Manus was left rearing back in pain.

Or perhaps in anger.

Sibyl managed to avoid the first wild swing and limit the second one to a glancing blow, but Manus's tantrum was not one easily contained. The third blow slammed against his side, tossing him aside and ending with his back slamming painfully against one of the far walls of the room.

On his hands and knees, he tried to get his breathing under control. His eyes opened, and he blinked. There was a summon sign, here of all places. What mad soul would venture down here to lay a summon sign? Outside of himself, of course.

Deciding not to give it much more thought, he placed a hand on the sign and beckoned forth the phantom. He glanced up just in time to see Manus leaping into the air, and rolled aside as a foot landed inches from his vulnerable cranium.

Unfortunately, Manus had landed on the end of his axe. Forced to release the weapon or find his skull cracked, he did so with a scowl. Scrambling back to his feet, he ducked under a swing and retaliated with a quick fireball, trading power for a slightly faster cast. Not that the cast was weak – no pyromancy which came from his flame could ever be defined as _weak._

All it seemed to do, however, was anger the primeval man even more.

The chosen undead rolled backwards; the moment his feet touched the ground, his hand moved clockwise, casting a great whip of chaos fire. Whatever impact it was supposed to have was cut short, though, as Manus's great arm came through the center of the flame and grasped him in a manner it had done three times, beginning with their very first encounter.

He'd later swear his eyes bulged out of his skull as he was waved around, slammed into the ground, the wall, and a pillar as his chest nearly caved in at the strength of the grip. Manus must have got bored, as eventually Sibyl found himself flung across the room and against a wall. His body fell quite pathetically to the ground below, blackspots filling his vision.

His right hand was limp, so he was forced to use his left to reach across his body for his Estus flask. Not that it much mattered – he could already see his impending doom. Nonetheless, he would try. He always tried, if nothing else.

One arm still hanging limply, he managed to dodge the end of Manus's staff coming down on his head. Stumbling on his feet and nearly falling, he made to consume the essence which comprised Estus. It was no liquid – not _pure_ Estus, at least. There was a fluid called Estus soup which was known to have a similar, if lesser effect on the undead. He himself only knew the recipe thanks to Siegmeyer.

Pure Estus, however, was the essence of bonfires, kindled hundreds, if not thousands of times. It was what filled his flask, and it was what would, hopefully, revitalize his wounds and give him the strength to face which none other could.

A glancing blow at his side did little to stop him from pouring the essence, even as he continued to retreat backwards along the wall. While his right arm still stung with pain, he could at least _feel_ it and move it. It would have to make do.

He prepared himself to dodge an upcoming strike from Manus, unsure if he'd actually _dodge it,_ when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. A white blur with just a streak of blue threw itself into the fray. It was rapidly approaching, zig-zagging its path towards them. He nearly thought of it a threat, but… well, for lack of a better description, he could _feel_ it wasn't a danger to anyone in the area, except for Manus.

The Abyssal Father reared backwards as the white blur dashed across its stomach, tearing and cutting along the way. Sibyl, not one to waste an opportunity, used the moment of distraction to dash across the makeshift arena, grabbing his Black Knight Greataxe from the ground.

It was far more of a struggle then it should have been. The damn injury was limiting him, however minor it was. Yet, with the help of the white blur… perhaps there was hope. Manus kept attempting to smash his phantom helper, yet each strike missed. Sibyl finally caught sight of just who his helper was, and the grin on his face was so wide, one might even be able to see it beneath his visor!

Sif, the grey wolf companion of Arotrias.

Something about him always rung familiar in his head, but he swore to have never encountered him before venturing to the past. Or… or had he? Shaking his head, he dismissed the thoughts; it was not the time for thinking. It was time to slay Manus.

As his opponent's attention was focused elsewhere, Sibyl thought it was a good idea to take advantage. The only sound to be made as he rushed forward was from his feet kicking dirt back. As he closed the gap, he jumped, and his axehead came down in an overhead swing straight into the back of Manus.

It dug at least eight inches deep, and immediately, Manus's attention was shifted from Sif to him. There was no small amount of effort put into simply trying to _hang on_ as the Beast of the Abyss flailed around, trying in vain to buck him off like some enraged boar.

Eventually, the wild flailing accomplished something: it dug his weapon loose. Knowing he was about to be bucked off, Sibyl slammed his free palm against the thick, black hide which so vaguely imitated man. A Great Combustion shot forth from his palm, and he used the knockback to help finish prying loose his Greataxe.

He landed on his buttocks, quite exposed, but Manus was reeling and unable to finish him off there. For once, fate smiled upon him. Sif was still in a frenzy of offense, striking rapidly around its legs. He forced himself back to his feet with help of his weapon.

His focus shifted back to Manus when he heard a loud 'yipe'. Sif was sent flying and skidded along the ground, quite painfully it seemed. Sprinting forward, he slid underneath the wild swing of an outstretched arm. As soon as it passed, his heel dug into the ground, propelling his body back upwards and forward as his axe came straight down from over his shoulder.

It made close acquaintance with Manus's horned head; he was quick to pull it out and strike again, this time from below in an upward swing. A foot came forward and connected with his chest, sending him backwards as his axe slid from his grasp for the first time since just now.

As Manus raised his catalyst, Sibyl recognized it for what it was: a race. He managed to grab the Oolacile Catalyst from his boot, raising it quickly and casting the second most powerful spell he knew: Crystal Soul Spear. A stream of black Abyss shot out towards him, little more than pure blackness. His own spell glowed with a teal light, and as the two collided, he had no idea which would win.

They fought for little less than a second before his seemed to win out, piercing through the middle of the Abyss. Whatever happened next, be it the end of Manus, he had no idea. The collision had sent some of the Abyss essence towards him, launched from the encounter with his Crystal Soul Spear. One spot of the Abyss landed right over his visor, spewing through and against his left eye.

He collapsed, trying in vain to reach his hand through his visor and stop the pain, but he couldn't _._ He tried clawing through it, but his leather gloves made it all but impossible. With shaking hands, he managed to, somehow, remove his helmet. He tossed it aside, one hand instantly cupping over his eye as his body writhed. He cupped some dirt beneath him, slamming it into his eye in some vain attempt to _stop it._

It burned. It burned worse than the lava of Izalith, than the sting of a spear through his stomach. He couldn't stop shaking – why couldn't he control his damn body! He screamed, a blood chortling thing which sounded so unfamiliar to him he would've sworn it wasn't even coming from his mouth agape.

He tried to grab his Estus, but it slipped straight through his hands. He couldn't be bothered to find it, not with how the Abyss seemed to be seeping over to his right eye. It was spreading. Oh gods, it was spreading. Why was he having trouble breathing – Velka above, it was suffocating! He rolled onto his back, coiling up like a snake as his feet repeatedly kicked against the dirt.

Something cut against his face – he had no idea what, and to be frank, he hardly cared. The pain didn't' stop with the cut, no. The black essence seemed _angry_ at the attack, yet he could feel it had stopped spreading across his face. His one-eyed vision finally improved, and the first thing to grace his sight was the white, phantasmal fur of Sif.

He grabbed the wolf, pulling him closer into an embrace as he tried and failed to speak for several moments.

"D-Du-" He dry-heaved, feeling a bit of bile trying to work its way up through his throat and out. "Dusk. Dus-sk. Safe?"

Sif's snout pointed over yonder, and it was only thanks to the assistance of the great wolf that he managed to even turn his head and look. She was laying on the ground, still dressed in that white gown of hers.

He pointed. Sif seemed to get the message. His one good eye glanced upwards as the ringing in his ears finally seemed to end. There was a general shaking all around the cavern, and now he had heard that, he could see the dirt falling all around him. Sif deposited him next to Dusk.

The cavern was collapsing. Even his pained mind could realize that. They were all going to be buried – his eye flared up again, and he nearly tore some fur off of Sif, not that the wolf complained. He didn't even whine. Nodding in thanks, he settled down next to Dusk, ignoring the dirt which fell into his hair.

Instead, he reached down to his hip and into a pouch. A small bone lay within, though it was nothing so ordinary. A Homeward Bone, able to send someone to the place they most closely associated as home. For undeads, it was the last bonfire they had resided at. The bone would not work with two; he had tried so before.

He was left with a choice. Lordran needed him; his destiny was to burn in the First Kiln, to rekindle the flame for another thousand years in hopes of, albeit temporarily, lightening the plight of the undead. Dusk… her kingdom was destroyed, her people dead. It would have been a mercy to leave her here, to her death while she lay unconscious and unaware.

Perhaps… perhaps, just this once, he could be selfish.

Placing the bone in her unconscious hand, he squeezed down for her, watching as the bone cracked and promptly crumbled to dust. Her body disappeared a moment thereafter, nothing but a memory for his pained mind. Sif caught his weight as he collapsed, and Sibyl could see even the phantom pup would fade in mere moments.

He whined, digging his head against Sibyl's chest.

"N-Not to wor-ry, Sif." He smiled lightly, resting his head against the transparent wolf. He was tired. Very tired. His eyes slowly shut, and he found himself unconscious just as a white, blinding light illuminated from where Dusk's body had rested.

* * *

 _Sibyl knew not where he was. Then again, how could he? There was not exactly much to judge by. If he had to describe it, he'd say it was almost a parallel opposite to the Abyss: a glowing, white, luminescent flat land. The aura even felt pleasant, as opposed to the fear-inducing aroma of the Abyss. The ground and the sky blended together so well, he could hardly tell up from down._

 _How long he had spent in this place, he did not care to know. It seemed as though an eternity and a second had passed simultaneously._

 _Yet, even in this seemingly pure place of nothing, his eye remained infected and burning. Would it spread eventually, turning him into something as terrifying as what Artorias had been rendered to? Had the Abyss truly followed him to the afterlife? And that had to be what this was: the afterlife. Nothing particularly grand, but he had stopped believing the afterlife was anything pleasant long ago. It was a lie and a hope for those who refused to see reality._

 _At least he'd never been such a fool, else this might have been rather depressing. As it were, he just… waited. For something, for nothing – it hardly mattered. Whether he'd ever be free from this place or not was a mystery. He might eventually just… fade._

 _Being no stranger to situations of the peculiar, odd, or otherwise otherworldly, the knight took it in stride. At the very least, were he alive, his life was no longer in direct danger, a notable step up from his previous arrangements. He was left wondering how in Izalith he'd gotten here, much like he had wondered upon awakening in Oolacile after the arm of the Abyss ceased him._

 _Ideally, this venture would not be so dangerous once he uncovered its secrets… but things were so rarely ideal. He had a theory, albeit one far-fetched. It mostly had to do with some apparitions he had passed by in his pointless wandering. Yes, they were the only thing who resided in this place outside of himself. Transparent and nearly impossible to see, given they glowed the same white as everything else and blended in splendidly with the background._

 _He saw them wandering with no regard to him. A great many of them even passed through him. It was quite the assortment, as well. Demons, silver knights, black knights, the moonlight butterflies – he even swore to have seen the figure of one Quelana in the distance, but she disappeared just as quickly as it showed_

 _Sibyl had seen some common ones, though they hardly caught his attention in the way the others did. Stray, regular hollows he could recall ending multiple times. He had even seen an Astora knight figure, complete with a crest shield. It was the undead who saved him from the asylum, who gave him purpose. He, too, wandered the white plane, though he was not of the talkative sort._

 _There were more, though. It was when he saw Solaire he was rendered silent; a moment thereafter, the figure of Ornstein passed by him. Everything he saw, everyone in this white plane, was someone he had slain. The white, too, was very similar to the white of the soul he absorbed so many times. It was a frightening conclusion, but one he was forced to make._

 _He was within his very own soul, and trapped alongside him were the souls of his enemies and friends alike. It was sickening. Completely sickening, and his stomach churned every time he saw one of the apparitions. He feared encountering them, nearly as much as he feared the Abyss which clung to his eye threateningly._

" _Oh, what's this?" A voice whispered, causing him to tense and fling the Black Knight Greataxe he had been dragging along the ground into a readier position. Yes, his armor and weapon maintained their physical presence, even here. He glanced around, watching with a raised eyebrow as the white all around began to change._

 _It started with a single, small spot, spreading out further and further. It was a darkness, perhaps not as vile as the Abyss, but not something pleasant in any way. He blinked, and when his eyes opened next, he was surrounded by darkness. It… irritated his eye, moreso than the constant, throbbing, passive pain he had begun to get used to. It would still flare up on occasion, sending him into painful spasms, but it was nothing a few minutes of time did not fix._

 _Luckily, it did not render him a complete mess._

 _"A bright soul, yet I find you here of all places…" A hand reached out, brushing against his cheek._

 _He slapped it away instantly. "Show yourself!"_

 _She laughed, a taunting voice which made him grind his teeth. "Ah, there it is. What an intriguing eye. It reminds me of…"_

 _There was silence for a few moments, and he felt fear. His hand reached for the pendant around his neck, and with a flare of blessed energy, the darkness disappeared._

 _His breath left him as his eyes grew heavy. Collapsing, he spat out a curse before he, too, faded._

* * *

Qrow had learned to not expect much from his _thrilling_ ventures into the Badlands, and he sure as hell wasn't wrong for not being believing every single one was going to result in some great revelation. Maybe when he first started going into it, back when he thought he was saving the world with every damn trip. Nowadays? He saw them for what they were: ninety-five percent of the time, a complete waste. He was either chasing circling trails or urban legends which changed more often than he had to refill his flask.

The other five percent, though, was as vital as anything in the world. More than James's little robots, even more than the students at Beacon. They made all the difference; even the slightest bit of information, no matter how vague, could change the tide of the little shadow-war they were engaged in. It was a thankless job, investigating and exploring all these loose ends, but that sort of came with the entire _shadow war_ thing.

It was an important-ass war, which was why he bothered to be out here all the damn time when he could be visiting his nieces or at local bars talking to busty women. He barely saw either of them, but he sure wished he could more. Moreso the former than the latter, as he wasn't _that_ vain. Ruby and Yang… God, they were about to be attending Beacon!

With all the moves which had been happening recently, it made his trips out here even more important. He _had_ to find something.

On this one, especially, because Ozpin had insisted he check it out as soon as possible. Ozpin was as close to patience incarnate as anyone was ever going to get, so when he insisted on something, it was usually damn important. Why exactly it was important he go and check out some dusty old town which had been taken out by Grimms a few months ago, he didn't know. It just was, according to Ozpin, and that was enough for him.

He sure as hell wasn't going to tell Ozpin 'no', even if he had little idea on what the man was thinking half the time. The other half? He had _no_ idea, yet, despite all of that, there was none he trusted more. So, when it fell for him to do the dirty work, he did it. They had agreed it was the best way to do it, seeing as how he was the strongest of their small would-be group of protectors.

And yes, he _was_ the strongest. Maybe Ozpin could beat him, but he wouldn't count on it consistently. The old bastard had all the other important qualities, though. As for Glynda… She was good, but not as good as he was.

Hell would freeze over before he uttered those words to her, though.

Not for the first time as he wandered through the desolate town, he wished Ozpin would have given him clearer instructions than just 'go investigate'. The hell was he supposed to investigate, exactly? The bloodstains on the ground? Because while his investigations never took him anyplace _nice,_ this was another level of unpleasant.

Everyone had died literally just months ago; he was just glad the Atlas military had come in and buried what mangled bodies they found lying around. He pitied the town people, moreso the kids than anyone else. They didn't deserve to die because their parents lived in some outskirt village, thinking that just because they had survived for generations out there alone without help, they would _continue to do so._

Sure, they probably had a peaceful life until they got wiped out. Emphasis on _until,_ because when Grimm came, it was anything but peaceful. Maybe that was what he was supposed to be investigating? Why the Grimm had converged on the town – not that they ever seemed to _need_ a reason. Not one beyond a chance to cause pain and misery, at least.

Qrow sighed, staring at a torn apart cradle on the ground, busted in half, wood splintered. He unscrewed his metal flask, taking a gulp and letting the warm liquid burn down his throat for a few seconds.

Yup. His job sucked. A lot.

And people wondered why he drank all the time.

Shaking his head, he turned to stare out the nearby window. And it was a mighty fine thing he did, because _there was a raging inferno in the sky._ An inferno of red and white, tinted with black, swirling with no signs of stopping. It was unnatural, that much was certain, and he had a _really_ strong feeling it was what Ozpin had sent him out here to investigate.

How the hell did Ozpin always know…

Thoughts for another time. First, he needed to figure out what the hell was going on over there.

* * *

Sibyl awoke with a groan. A heavy, heavy groan. That wasn't anything too uncommon, given everything about his life. It would have been odd for him to not awake with a groan, actually. Why did he usually awaken with a groan? The reasons were near uncountable. It could be from a phantom pain, a kink in his back which came as a side effect of sleeping in his armor, or in remembrance that since he had awoken, he was inclined _to do things_ which typically resulted in pain. None of those were rare, nor were ones of anguish like when his dreams were haunted by his many mistakes.

This time, however, it was none of those. Because while he felt a pain, it was no phantom pain. His eye burned just as it had continued to do so, yet it was not the limit of his pain. He felt absolutely _sick,_ which was absurd because it was damn near impossible to get an undead sick. Yet, that didn't stop the bile from workings its way up his throat-

He puked, his throat burning as his stomach emptied itself on the dirt beneath him – wait, the dirt? His one good eye blinked in wonder at the grass, covering the dirt completely. His fingers curled, digging into the ground in an attempt to confirm that no, it was no ruse. Head jerking up, he looked around. There were trees, too. Very _alive_ tress, not ones tinged by the darkness of the Abyss.

Even if the trees had been tinged, he would have been glad in some way. There had been _nothing_ but his own nightmares in the flat, white plane which he had found himself trapped in after defeating Manus. Had he escaped that dreadful place? Was he given the illusion of freedom once more? Chuckling softly, he collapsed back to the ground, staring up at the sun above. As beautiful a sight as he could think, honestly.

He was alive! Somehow, someway, he had survived his encounter with the Abyss – no, he had done more than just survive. He had _won,_ something not even the knight Artorias, Velka bless his corrupted soul, was able to do. There was even still hope for him to get back to Lordran, to try and make his worthless adventure actually _mean_ something. His chuckling continued, eventually growing into full blown laughter.

The joyful masquerade did a remarkably good job masking his wet eyes, even from himself.

All things came to an end, however, and he eventually settled his laughter down, panting for breath. Gods, his lungs burned. Manus had done quite a bit of damage, even beyond his eye. It had never stopped him before, however, and he would not allow it to stop him now.

He needed to get up, perhaps find his Greataxe. From there, he could attempt to figure out where in Izalith he was. Perhaps in the outstretches of the Darkwood forest? That had been where Oolacile stood, so incredibly long ago.

As he rose to his feet, he took another gaze around. Any exact details were near impossible to come to; he was surrounded by woods, though not as lively or as green as Lordran's own local forest. Few were, if what Shiva had told him was true, so he hardly saw it as a mark against it.

Sibyl paused, taking a moment to pluck his Greataxe free. It had ended up lodged into the lower half of a tree which was remarkably close to where _he_ had been laying. A mighty good thing it hadn't ended up lodged in him. His armor still clung to him, so perhaps it wouldn't have cut him in half. Still, it was hardly a bet he wanted to take, even moreso if it hit his helmet-

Wait, he was missing his helmet. Where had he left it? Oh. _Oh._ Damn it all! He had reinforced that thing with a Titanite Slab, and in his haste to lessen the pain of his infected eye, he had left it buried in that cavern with Manus. What an utter waste, all because he couldn't deal with a bit of pain. How pathetic.

It wasn't like his attempts to relieve the pain had even _done_ anything. Nothing he did ever accomplished anything. Sighing softly, Sibyl moved and rested his weapon of choice against his shoulder. Complaining hardly accomplished anything either; the only thing to come of it was it irritated him and brought his mood even closer to the ground.

Right. He needed to actually do something, like find the nearest town, or the remains of one, at least. Three steps forward were taken when he heard it: a growl, soft and from behind. A mere instant after that, the familiar pattering of something rushing at him registered to his ears. Without hesitation, he turned, swinging his weapon horizontally, connecting with the head of whatever had rushed at him on the side. It fell, skidding along the ground before scrambling back to its feet with a roar.

Given a good chance to take it in, he did so, with disgust filling him immediately afterwards. It was another creature of the Abyss, though not one he had personally come across. Its fur was tinged black, covering every inch of it. Atop the fur at certain spots was white bone, most obviously placed on its head like a mask. No beast of the Abyss was complete without the red eyes which marked them all. They stared at him, hungry and angry.

The beast itself was something like an overgrown wolf, hunched over on all fours. He would enjoy annihilating it utterly.

It rushed at him with a wild swing of its claws, one easily dodged with a simple step aside. He brought his axe upwards beneath the creature at the same time, cutting through its underside. He prepared for another strike when a claw ripped across his torso, sending him stumbling. Gritting his teeth and doing his best to reestablish his balance, he followed through on the swing, chopping through the spine of the beast.

Damn… he hadn't even seen the attack coming! No mere beast should be able to get a damn hit on him, but with his vision restricted to one eye, _should_ didn't matter. He was half-blind, and just the thought caused him to flare up with anger.

Slamming into the Abyssal wolf once more in anger, it stopped its squirming and died as it _should._ Pausing, he stared at it and observed. It didn't seem to bleed, not with normal blood, anyways. If how it attacked and looked were any indication, he rather doubted this was the only one. Wolves traveled in packs, and that more than made up for how relatively meager one alone was. Any enemy, no matter how pathetic, could overwhelm in numbers.

It was quiet, and in his experience, that was never a good thing. Sibyl shifted, adjusting his axe back over his shoulder and scanning all around. Red eyes, previously unseen, seemed to pop out from the greenery all around, seven pairs or so by his quick count.

Nothing easy. Not now, not ever.

Three of the seven charged out, two from his left and one from behind. A horizontal swing managed to halt the charge of the two rushing him from his left; as his swing halted across his body, he pulled back into an overhead swing towards his rear. It connected perfectly, cracking the white mask of the Abyss-wolf who had sought to tear up his back.

The creature fell dead, but he hardly had time to appreciate the heart-warming sight. Rolling aside to avoid the claws aimed at his turned back, his outstretched hand exploded in a cast of Great Combustion, stopping a claw aimed at his exposed head in its motion. He followed up with a one-handed swing through the smokes and fumes of his Great Combustion, a more or less blind attack which connected.

He prepared to redirect an arm when something tackled him from his new blind-side, sending him to the ground. An ugly maw found its way snarling in front of his face, breath awful and teeth sharp. He was forced to let go of his weapon to stop before his face was torn apart. It was an unfortunate situation, doubly so as he felt another one of the beasts trying to claw through his shin guards. A fruitless endeavor, but he wasn't fond of them scratching up his armor, even if it was easily repaired.

Yet, a critical mistake had been made by the beasts. He still had one hand available. Slamming his open palm onto the ground while his other hand held back a beast's head, chaos flames sprouted from the ground everywhere all around him, sending the multitude of monsters which had converged on him up and in the air, bodies burned and broken, even the one which had him pinned, seeing as how it was only halfway atop him.

Gods, he loved that cast. It had saved him more times than he cared to count.

Small piles of chaos lava stayed on the ground, not spreading, but continuing to burn steadily wherever they had popped up. He pushed himself back up onto his feet, taking a look at the wasteland all around him. One, two, four… six corpses. Where was the seventh?

A sickening slash of steel caused him to turn, fireball in hand and axe ready. The sight wasn't quite what he expected.

"Not bad, Kid, but you missed one."

* * *

Hiding just out of sight, Qrow had been watching for a while now. When he initially arrived, he'd been expecting some sort of big-ass Grimm of legend, something simple he could either kill or just take some notes on before calling it a day. That was how it usually went. Instead, he found some kid at the center of it all, puking his guts out onto the ground.

He wasn't afraid to admit he'd been caught off guard; it even made him feel like a bit of a dick, approaching as if this kid was some big ass, deadly monster opposed to helping from the beginning.

Then the boy looked around, dazed. Qrow managed to get a good glimpse of his eyes then. One was normal – well, maybe not normal. A grey eye was hardly his idea of normal, but it wasn't the weirdest thing he'd ever seen. Not much weirder than Ruby's silver ones, even, so he hardly paid it any mind. What did capture his concern was the other eye.

He hesitated to even call it an eye. The whole socket was just… black, the same sort of darkness that all Grimm seemed to be resemble. It opened up all sorts of questions in his mind, none of them good. It pissed him off to a whole new level the more he thought about it, mostly the idea Salem had gotten ahold of some kid and done unthinkable things to him.

The possibility of him being an extension of her was the only thing which stopped Qrow from going to help. He couldn't afford to expose himself until his hand was forced, or he knew it was safe.

If that eye _was_ the result of some odd experiment by Salem, he'd be taking the kid back to Beacon to figure out the why and the how. If it wasn't, the kid would still be going back to Beacon to at least meet with Ozpin, because it was unnatural and suspicious regardless of what explanation the boy offered.

Hell, everything about him was suspicious. Qrow had watched with wonder when the kid removed some giant axe from a tree trunk, promptly using it to tear through one particular Beowolf. It started impressively, the kid not even flinching or panicking when it rushed at him. He almost seemed amused, and when he did a calm, smooth sidestep and slashed the underside of the beast, he looked like an experienced hunter.

It was brutal; it was efficient… It was deadly. No wasted movements like most hunters in training, constantly doing needlessly extravagant moves.

Glynda usually had that ironed out by the fourth year. If a hunter lived to his age, _then_ they could start being needlessly extravagant again.

Yet, in the midst of Ol' Blackeye's brief beat down of the Beowolf, he got caught off guard. Somehow, someway, a simple and easy to dodge strike had cut across his torso. He gritted his teeth, taking the blow and finishing his attack before finishing the beast with a visibly frustrated strike. It didn't exactly give him any answers to his other questions except that whatever had caused his eye to be some sort of black Abyss happened recently. He was still adjusting to his lack of vision in one eye, not truly realizing just how much he'd have to reshape how he fought around it.

A shame, too, because the kid seemed pretty good. It was always rough having to adjust to major injuries like that; more than a few hunters had tried and failed.

Qrow rose an eyebrow as more Grimm showed themselves from the trees, three rushing in quick. A swing stopped two at the flank, and he shifted that swing into a backwards one which connected _right_ on the face of a Beowolf.

He'd rightly consider himself impressed; then, there was an explosion of fire from his _outstretched hand._ An awakened Aura and Semblance, then. Did he have training as a hunter? Was he in anyway connected to _her?_

Well, it'd be hard as hell to find out if the kid died. A Grimm had attacked from his left side, an unseen attack which ended with him pinned to the ground, face about to be torn to shreds. Cursing, Qrow rushed out from his position in the trees, not being in the business of watching kids get their throats slashed out by some angry Grimm, only to stop when the boy slammed an open palm against the ground and his instincts _screamed._

People in his field who didn't trust their instincts usually didn't last long.

He nearly whistled in appreciation when _pillars of red fire_ launched up from everywhere around his downed body. If that wasn't mastery over a Semblance, he had no idea what the hell was… Holy shit. The pillars of fire left _lava?!_ What the absolute hell... Ozpin was going to have a field day with this kid.

The boy rose to his feet, taking a glance around and counting the bodies, eventually realizing one was missing from the assorted corpses. Qrow figured it was as good a time as any to make his entrance; he rushed forward, slashing the final Beowolf's head off with a swing of his blade.

The pyromaniac turned around, fireball summoned in hand and axe held threateningly.

"Not bad, Kid, but you missed one."

* * *

There was a brief moment of silence as Sibyl stared at the newcomer, a tall man with a sword and stubble upon his face. Was he a danger? He had taken out the final Abyssal wolf, so Sibyl expected not. Better to be cautious than dead, however, so he would remain so. "Temporarily, perhaps. It would have died all the same."

The stranger nodded, trying to keep steady eye-contact with Sibyl's good one opposed to the much more alarming blind one. It was an awkward if appreciated gesture. "Based on what I saw? Definitely."

He lowered his fireball slowly, not entirely sure how to respond. How long had the fellow been watching? Presumably he at least saw his Chaos Storm cast; it was rather hard to miss.

"Name's Qrow," his strange helper introduced himself, offering a hand to shake. Sibyl took it with a nod. He'd be cautious, but not overly so. All of his former companions had been strangers at one point of time, the only thing connecting them being the strange land in which they resided.

"Sibyl of Lordran." Qrow had a firm handshake, not that he'd ever put much stock in the superstition it meant something about his personality. "I'm pleased someone else sane of mind is out here. As you might have guessed with a glimpse of my eye, things as of late have been precarious at best."

It was as great an understatement as one could ever make, and so Qrow chuckled lightly. "Precarious, huh." He took a glance around at all the nearby corpses. "Seem to have it handled pretty damn well."

Appearances were far too deceiving, but Sibyl didn't bother correcting him. "We all manage, I suppose."

He nodded, scratching at his chin."Soo…. what exactly _are_ you doing out here?"

Sighing, the undead ran a hand through his hair. "It is as much a mystery to you as it is to me, Qrow. I would, however, very much like to find my way back to Lordran." Sibyl paused, letting the words sink in for a few moments. "I don't suppose you would be able to help with that venture?"

The man laughed, smirking smugly in a manner oddly reminiscent of Patches. "I know the Badlands like the back of my damn hand. C'mon, there's a tavern we can pass on the way back to Vale, about a seven-hour trip if we're quick."

Well… that decided it. He'd follow this Qrow fellow; there was safety to be had in numbers. Not to mention he was without a guide, and judging by how much the man in front of him stunk, he _did_ spend a lot of his time out here in these so called Badlands.


	2. A Lost Endeavor

**Yo, going to go ahead and post the second chapter of this little 'ole story I've been writing with my free-time, typically after work at around 1-2 in the morning. Dark Souls remastered coming out soon is what sparked me to start writing this, and I actually have the first five chapters complete. I'm not the type to hold chapters hostage in some sort of vain attempt to get reviews/follows/favorites or whatever, so they'll all be getting posted soon. Probably going to post the next chapter in two days, as I still like to do a final proof-read. Things can get a bit mixed up format wise, too, when I import to this site from word document.**

 **Anyways, hope whoever reads this enjoys it. I've dabbled with writing in the past and always find myself coming up with different ideas, thus never finishing the stories I write. It's the reason I'm posting this on here: ideally, knowing even a few, or if this grows more popular, a lot of people are looking forward to updates, it'll keep me working on it and my mind focused.**

 **There are plot divergences planned, else there wouldn't be much a point of writing this thing. It's a buildup, though. I've never really liked stories that take a 180 degree turn from canon without warning and no real good reason early on. I don't entirely love how this chapter came out, and I thought about adding more between Sibyl's journey to Vale, but couldn't come up with a _reason_ to add anything. It would have added nothing to the story except words, a bit of fluff, and a marginally smoother transition.**

 **Until next time, friends. Review or not, up to you, just hope you enjoy.  
**

 **Edit: Again, thanks to my beta** _ **ekaterina016**_ **for correcting many of my mistakes. Rest of the chapters will be updated accordingly as he gets done with them, and I'm applying what he's correcting to that which I am currently writing. Thank you.**

* * *

Sibyl took another sip from his drink, a far cry from the method his new traveling companion, Qrow, had taken to using to consume the alcoholic beverage. The manner in which Qrow drank was more akin to how Sibyl chugged Estus when he felt his life fading, not in measured sips, but long gulps. It was uncanny, really, how similar the two were.

It was but one of many things he and the strange hunter had in common. By 'many', the undead meant around four or five, among them being Sibyl had often received comments he smelled awfully similar to the essence of Estus, undoubtedly because he consumed it far more than any other undead. It's an unfortunate fact of his particular resurrection, one bringing endless pain to everyone involved, really.

Similar to how he had the aroma of Estus, Qrow smelled strongly of alcohol. He'd only managed to identify the smell about halfway through their long journey to the tavern, unused to the odd stench invading his nostrils. It was a rarity in Lordran, primarily because no one was sane enough to appreciate the effects it offered.

He'd only had a few drinks before with Siegmeyer, a particular brand partial to the undead and the ingredients their condition required in order for the alcohol to have any real effect outside of a bitter taste.

Perhaps Qrow was undead as well, as the alcohol he was consuming at what had to be record pace seemed to have no effect at all. While possible, it was much more likely he had simply conditioned himself against it. Well, far be it from him to judge; everyone needed a release. He made time to draw on occasion, usually when he found a bonfire.

The undead was more concerned with the fact he had _decided to use a drunk as a guide;_ he never had been a good judge of character. At least Qrow _had_ been able to navigate to the tavern, but given his drink of choice, it wasn't too much a surprise he knew where to find more of it.

"…anyway, don't ever tell a woman they're getting grey hairs. Especially if that woman's Glynda." Qrow paused, eyes glossing over briefly at the memory. "Yeah. Never."

Sibyl took another sip of his drink, hoping it would have some sort of effect. If it did, he might be able to tune out most of Qrow's insufferable talk. He talked more often than Patches, but with only half the charm.

He, of course, realized it was intentional _._ Qrow was trying to loosen his lips and intoxicate him. A useless endeavor, without prior knowledge he was an undead. Sibyl certainly wouldn't reveal any information, either. It had been his hope that given enough time, Qrow might realize it, but the man either enjoyed drinking too much to _care_ it was having no effect on him, or he kept convincing himself the _next_ drink would be the one which finally got the Chosen Undead to show some reaction.

The stories were somewhat entertaining, if seemingly far-fetched. "Very amusing, Qrow. I'm forced to stifle my laughter, lest the rumbustious sound bother the other patrons." The tavern was completely empty outside of them two and the tender, of course.

The self-proclaimed hunter tapped his fingers on the table in a series of three for a moment. "…alright, this isn't working. How the hell are you not a _bit_ tipsy? Even I'm starting to feel it."

Rolling his eyes, the undead leaned forward across the table. "I've had enough of these childish games, Qrow. You attempt to loosen my lips with alcohol, an amusing, if fruitless endeavor. And yet, even now exposed, you will not answer my Velka-damned questions!"

The hunter rose two hands in the air, a universal sign of surrender. Good. Maybe a few of his questions would get answered.

"Fine. Game's up. Ask away."

Sibyl took a calming breath, clearing his throat and dismissing the anger which had festered up inside him. There was no point in getting flustered. Qrow was simply trying to do what was best for himself: get as much information on him before giving his own. Patches had always been of much the same mindset, and he and Sibyl managed to maintain an almost-friendly relationship.

"I'm in dire need of getting back to Lordran; simple directions would do wonders. If you're unable to provide them, all I can ask is if you know someone who can."

Qrow paused, fingers still tapping against the table. "Never heard of a Lordran, Kid. Gonna' need more details than that."

Sibyl resisted the urge to roll his one good eye out of its damn socket, lest he become truly blind. "Lordran? You've never heard of _Lordran,_ Land of the Gods, home to the capital city, Anor Londo? _That_ Lordran?"

He remained quiet, staring blankly ahead. Slowly, his head inclined, and Sibyl felt all patience he had mustered up dissipate.

"I thought we were done with these games, Qrow! If you will not take this seriously, I will simply-"

Qrow held up a hand in an attempt to stop the upcoming rant, which the undead reluctantly did. He did not appreciate being jerked around, treated like a fool. He had enough of that for three lifetimes, and if the human in front of him thought he could get away with it, he would be in for a serious surprise.

"I _am_ being serious. If it's supposed to be common knowledge, it sure as hell isn't. Where's it located? Mistral? Atlas?"

Not 'common knowledge'? The _Land of the_ _Gods_ was not common knowledge? Absurd! Completely, utterly absurd – he was seething just thinking about it. Not to mention those other places he named, 'Atlas' and 'Mistral'. They were not kingdoms he had ever heard of, at least none of the big ones which were 'common knowledge'.

Either himself _or_ Qrow should have known what the other was talking about, but neither of them did. While obscene, he had been taught to never dismiss the impossible. Damn it… this was beginning to become a bit too similar with his recent venture to the past. Nothing was making sense. How had he not heard of Lordran? Either he was a sheltered individual, or he was simply stupid.

Qrow struck him as neither.

"…I simply ask, then, that you get me to someone who _has_ an idea of Lordran."

Qrow scratched at his chin. "Listen, I may not be able to help you, but I know someone who can. Name's Ozpin, runs Beacon Academy in Vale." He reached forward, grabbing a napkin and a pen from inside his jacket. His wrist moved, writing words as he continued to speak. "I can tell you're getting a bit tired of me, so I'll just send you on your way with this." He passed the napkin, folded inside of another napkin as some makeshift envelope. "Give it to Glynda, she'll handle everything from there."

He pocketed the note, nodding in thanks. At least Qrow had been of some use…

"Also, uh… maybe get something to cover up that eye of yours. People out here? They don't give a damn and mind their own business, but once you get in the city, there'll be questions."

He had already planned on covering up his infected eye; the only thing stopping him being the fact he was going to retrieve the material from inside his bottomless box. It was dangerous and foolish to simply show he had a magical object such as that on his person, doubly so in the presence of someone he had met mere hours ago.

"I will do so. Until we next meet, Qrow." Giving a brief wave over his shoulder, he left the tavern, retrieving his axe from its position leaning against a wall near the door.

He should reach the kingdom of Vale by dusk; it was at the end of the road they'd been traveling on, one he would now walk alone.

The undead was hardly beaten up about _that_ fact. Instead, he smiled softly. Sweet, sweet silence.

* * *

Qrow watched as Sibyl left through the door, a giant axe resting against his armored shoulder. He waited approximately three seconds after the door shut before reaching across the table, grabbing the drink which had been left behind. It was only half empty. Man, what a waste. Kids these days. No appreciation for anything, much less his thrilling stories.

Sure, he'd been caught red-handed in trying to get the kid drunk so he'd share some details he otherwise wouldn't. It was morally wrong, but also completely the logical thing to do in his situation. Sibyl was still in his right to be a bit cross about it, but c'mon! A brick wall probably had a better sense of humor, though whether it could handle its alcohol as well was up in the air. The kid could _drink._

His face flattened a little bit, lips forming a straight line. A brick wall also made a helluva' lot more sense than whatever he had been talking about.

' _Lordran, huh? A so-called Land of the Gods...'_ With a title like that, it had to be important from where he came from. It sounded like a gigantic kingdom, much the same size as Vale. Which was interesting, because Qrow sure as shit would have known about it if it _was._

Nothing was ever easy. He couldn't have just found some orphaned kid – no, he had to find a fireball-flinging, axe-wielding mystery. Remnant had _enough_ mysteries; he sure as shit didn't want to deal with another one. So, he wouldn't. It was that simple – the kid would find his way to Ozpin, then the caffeinated bastard could deal with it.

In the end, Qrow had done his job. He'd investigated what he was supposed to, pissed him off, and sent him on his way to be dealt with by the actually responsible people.

Given how well he dealt with Grimm, he should be able to make do with getting to and through Vale. Regardless, it wasn't his problem unless Sibyl never showed up at Beacon, in which case it would become his problem _very quickly_.

Things would be fine, though. He had faith.

And another drink to order.

* * *

Sibyl was quiet and still as he roamed the odd streets of Vale. He had entered through a large gate, connected to a wall which stood as high as the one surrounding the capital city of Anor Londo. The wall was not surprising; a great kingdom should have great defenses, after all, doubly so if the Grimm he had come across were a common threat across the lands.

He needed to learn more about them. A _lot_ more.

Qrow had informed him the Grimm were a great threat to society, but given him being an alcoholic and his non-existent knowledge of Lordran, the undead would take such words with a good pinch of salt. That had been his initial thought at first, dismissing Qrow as a mad drunk, yet the longer he stayed in this place, the more he wondered.

It was not anything like he had expected. Nothing was.

When the sun had set on the horizon, giving way to the moon, he had fancied himself a look to the stars in an attempt to see any familiar constellations. While far from an expert on the stars, he should have been able to spot something familiar, and perhaps use it to find Lordran. He had, after all, once drawn them before during a particularly clear night amidst the Darkwood Garden.

However, he was left wanting. Nothing matched! He only saw a few stars he thought _might_ have looked similar, yet they were simply too vague for anything concrete to be drawn from it. Things had only gotten more confusing from there; when the cloud cover, which had been consistent since his arrival, finally dispersed, it gave him a clear view of the moon.

It was not as it should be. Had the Knightess Fire Keeper of Anor Londo been around, she would have wept at the sight. A moon, not full and proud, but shattered and damaged. It even made _him_ somewhat sick, and his charade as a Darkmoon Hunter had been as brief as it was fulfilling. He always had been more of a sun fellow.

Given that neither the stars nor the moon were anything familiar, he was forced to conclude he was far, _far_ from Lordran. Perhaps so far as to call it some place new altogether, though he held out hope that it was not so. It was always possible he was in some place like the Painted World, albeit one which seemed to be on a much larger scale.

Unfortunately, he felt that line of thought to be a long shot, at best. It's much more likely was he was in an entirely new world. A startling thought to be had, yes, but it made the most sense out of all his options.

If there was a way here, however, there had to be a way back to Lordran. There _had to be._ He couldn't just allow his accomplishments and their sacrifices to be for nothing; he had to find a way back and into the Kiln.

Thus, his immediate destination was Beacon Academy, and so he ignored the trifling thoughts within his own mind. They could be dealt with once he had confirmed his suspicions, one way or the other. Besides, there was a chance whatever way he needed to find could be located there.

Of course, that required him to _find_ Beacon Academy, which was remarkably hard. Perhaps Qrow ought to have given him clearer instructions, but Sibyl wrote it off as another quirk of the oddity who was Qrow. One thing equally odd as Qrow was people were out in this city so late, doubly so given the strange glances they kept sending him. He was half-tempted to remove the cloth he had wrapped around his eye. It would give them a justifiable reason to stare.

There were so many people, even at night! He was unused to it, given Lordran's near-complete desolation, with only a few sane souls scattered in it. Well, no one in Lordran were truly sane. They simply masqueraded as such, himself included. Anyway, there were dozens of people he had passed so far. It was very, very strange.

Their cloths were strange too, indicating that perhaps like Lordran, these people were walking on the edge of sanity too. He could hardly make sense of their clothing. It was as strange as anything he had seen, though he had never seen what some might be deemed as 'normal' clothes. What made sense were only the padded leather beneath the assortment of armors and the _actual_ armors, given no soul was dumb enough to venture into Lordran unprotected… well, except for sorcerers.

He hesitated to call them arrogant, because Logan had been as far from that as one could be, but it had always confounded him as to why they refused to wear armor. Spells were only useful until one's torso was cleaved in half, after all. Perhaps they wore something beneath their robes? He had never bothered to check.

If they didn't, it made no sense to him, and perhaps played a role in how Seeker Logan has found himself trapped twice, in spite of his great skill.

He paused in the middle of the empty street, taking another glance above. Yes, the moon was still shattered. Or perhaps his mind was the thing shattered? It was something he had dismissed somewhat, the possibility of this all being a hallucination of his deranged soul-

Sibyl wasn't entirely sure why his back was suddenly on the ground, and why his legs had been swept out beneath him forcefully, nor why there was a great screeching nearby which grained against his ears like claws against steel. It was a sound he had trouble identifying beyond 'annoying' _._

It was doubtful to him an animal could've made the sound; instead, he suspected a demon of some sort. Perhaps his Chaos Flame was acting as a sort of beacon for the demons? It might even explain why those Grimm had saw fit to attack him, if they perceived his power as a threat.

Rising back to his feet and ignoring the ache in his head after it had slammed painfully against the ground, he turned to whatever had attacked him and unsheathed his blade, a longsword of the Balder Knights. He had returned his Greataxe to his bottomless box long ago, feeling it unfit to use in the more confined quarters of a city.

Whatever manner of a beast saw fit to attack him would find itself skewered painfully or burnt to ashes. Maybe even both. He found the thing which had attacked him in a glance, yet it wasn't just the beast. There stood alongside it some blonde girl with beautiful, flowing hair which ensnared his attention much like the sun. Much as he wanted to stare and admire her, given the circumstances, he was forced to act.

Tackling her and shielding her body from the ground with his own, the two of them rolled back to their feet as he shoved her back, eyeing the strange… _thing_ which had clearly swept out his feet. Why it seemed to have wheels was beyond him, but clearly it was reminiscent of the Bonewheel Skeletons. It was hard to make out its torso in the darkness, but he saw some odd design which clearly wasn't natural.

It hardly mattered. Just because something looked obscene didn't mean it wasn't a threat. He had made that painful mistake precisely once.

Growling in his own grueling voice, he kept his blade at the ready as he spoke. "Are you unhurt?" There was no immediate answer, so he spared a glance back towards the girl who had gone silent. The sight made him blink his one good eye. The busty blonde girl was giving him a blank stare.

Had she no fear? Was she a warrior herself? While she didn't look it, the beast which had attacked certainly didn't look like a threat, either. Though, admiring her form a bit more, she was leaner than most. She was an active woman, if nothing else.

"What are you doing?!"

He rose an eyebrow at the outraged comment, deciding a simple gesture towards the beast would be enough to explain his reasoning. When her eyes narrowed in anger, he realized he was not with his old, forcefully disbanded group of warriors, so words might be prudent. It had never been an issue with summons, either…

"I am attempting to confront whatever form of creature swept my legs out and was undoubtedly soon to attack you." He regarded the thing in curiosity for a moment, giving it a brief tap with his foot. "Though I admit, it seems the beast's own reckless attack was its own undoing."

A shame indeed, because he had been looking forward to venting his frustration on it, similar to how the Sacntuary Guardian had done when he first arrived in the outskirts of Oolacile. His current situation had left him dealing with even more stress than that event formed, somehow, so not having some beast or demon to cut into was a shame.

"The motorcycle?" The girl continued. It would suffice as a name. "If that is what you natives refer to it as, then yes."

Giving the creature one more prodding with his foot to ensure its death, he nodded and sheathed his blade. Turning towards the girl, he opened his mouth to check on her health – but the girl interrupted before he could get even one word out. "Are you insane? Why did you suddenly stop in the middle of the road when the light was green!? You nearly _wrecked_ Bumblebee!"

Well, now she was just sprouting gibberish.

Oh. He had said that aloud, hadn't he?

The girl screamed, her hair lighting up in flames. Yes, in flames!

He'd never… What in Izalith was with this damnable place? Manipulative drunks, beasts of the Abyss everywhere, a shattered moon, and to make it better, now he came across someone with such extravagant and exotic abilities in using the flame!? While he could hardly see much function in hair catching on fire, he also _didn't have much hair,_ much less the flowing kind she did. His was curly and messy and short.

Hers? It could be used as a weapon. Of that, he was sure.

Responding to what was definitely a clear threat, he summoned his own pyromancy, a great ball of red fire which shone far more breathtakingly and darker than her hair. He shifted into a combat stance, though he did not unsheathe his blade. Who knew how quickly his foe could strike with her own pyromancy.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the girl across from him stopped, her hair losing its fiery quality. Sibyl saw through the ruse, not lowering his guard. He waited for her hair to reignite, for he to try and attack. It would come any second – of that, he was positive. Any second... after around six seconds, he realized he might be wrong – or she was just very committed to the ruse. That thought in his mind, he waited another three seconds before sighing in frustration. Why? Why would she act threatening and then suddenly just… stop? None here made any sense! This damn land was impossible. Body still tense, he tried to forcefully relax it, if only slightly.

"A Semblance?" She muttered the same damnable word Qrow had insisted his pyromancy to be, her stance losing its threatening form as the words left. It seemed her hair had not been a pyromancy, if she didn't recognize his own casts.

The concept of his pyromancy being a Semblance was a complete, utter nonsense. While yes, his pyromancy did come from the soul, it was not so binary as to be completely unique to him. Anyone could learn it, a far cry from these so-called Semblances which were entirely individualistic and far more varied.

"My pyromancy is no Semblance, Miss. Anyone can learn it, have they the drive to do so."

"Wait. _Anyone_ can learn how to make giant fireballs like that?"

He nodded, vaguely annoyed, but more relieved he would not be forced to harm a girl so young. Whatever anger the girl had possessed seemed to fade as her hand, previously balled up in anger, moved to rest on her hip. Oh, no. He had seen that stance many a time before. Nothing good ever came from it, not from Rhea, nor from Quelana.

She smirked lightly, and he knew himself doomed. "Well, guess what, Hotshot. You're gonna' be coming with me, unless _you_ want to be the one paying to fix the little accident you caused."

…he sighed, dispersing his fireball. She was threatening to get other people involved with whatever he seemed to have done wrong. He could hardly argue against her; he had no idea what he _had_ done wrong. Given that, he also had no idea what the punishment could be. Be it light or heavy, it was not something he was willing to deal with at the moment regardless. Curses.

Huffing, but nodding, he crossed his arms as she moved back over to the slain beast. The blonde vixen picked it up, setting it upright and… made to sit atop it? Why? That made no sense – the beast was dead. If she had been riding it previously, she would ride it no longer.

She did… _something,_ though again, he hardly knew what it was supposed to accomplish-

The beast suddenly roared to life, and he damn near fell in surprise. _"Are you mad?!"_ He screamed over the utterly deafening, continuous roar of the beast. She gestured behind her, patting some part of the thing. A… seat? There was a seat behind her?

Blinking, he slowly approached. The roar had quieted somewhat, though it was still quite loud. Damn… he was going to have to get on top of that thing, wasn't he? Lowering himself onto it, he bit back a sneer at the girl who watched him sit with a smirk. He finally settled down, adjusting his bottom slightly to make it more comfortable-

Suddenly, the beast reared to a start. His first and only instinct was to scream and grab hold of the girl in front of him by the waist. He could hear her laughing as they moved far, far faster than he could even imagine.

"Woman!" His voice called over the engine wail. "Stop this damnable thing! Now!"

As if taunting him, they just went faster.

"Gwyn, damn you! Oh, by Nito's Tomb, is this how I will finally die?!"

He settled for slamming his face against her back and just holding on as firmly as he could.

* * *

It took all her willpower to not die of laughter as the boy stumbled off Bumblebee, breathing heavily and nearly falling over. That was what he got for jaywalking and causing her to crash! Really, he had no regard for safety. He was lucky the damage was superficial at most for Bumblebee, her, and himself. Mostly himself, actually. She was really glad he wasn't hurt, given that he didn't seem to have an Aura.

Not having an Aura made it all the more odd, the fact that his Semblance seemed so... strong? Conjuring fire seemed strong to her, anyways. But he hadn't called it a Semblance, had he? No, he implied _anyone_ could learn it, which either added to him being insane or just incredibly _weird._

He also dressed like a hunter, albeit an odd one. Really, who the hell was going for the whole knight look these days? Talk about old-fashioned. He definitely was a hunter, though. Most people didn't walk around with a sword, conjure fire, and have an injured eye covered in bandages _without_ being a hunter.

Yet, all of that was some of the least interesting parts about him! He also thought her motorcycle was some sort of beast. He was clearly very sheltered, or he came from so far out into the Badlands he'd never seen a car or bike, which made figuring out what the hell he'd be doing wandering around Vale at night even more of a mystery. Altogether, he was about as weird a guy as she'd ever met, and that was saying something. She had met her uncle Qrow after all.

"N-Never do that again!" He continued muttering under his breath, something about their days coming to an end, glaring at the bike in outright hate.

She snorted, leaning forward with a teasing smile. "Aww, is Hotshot scared of a little ˜ol bike?"

He shook his head resolutely no before pointing at Bumblebee. "That thing must come from the depths of Izalith itself. Really, I have slain countless demons, but such a contraption is without a doubt the evilest thing I've ever bore witness to."

Demons... did he mean the Grimm? She wasn't exactly going to correct him on the term, but she did file it under note. Grimm sure seemed like demons to, uh... less civilized people? Was that rude to think so? Even if it was, she was more concerned with it being evidence towards her Badlands theory.

Also, what was Izalith? Some sort of Badlands hell, maybe? Eh, why did it matter.

"Say, uh... don't think I ever got your name." And really, that was a shame, because he was good looking. Curly black – or was it some odd shade of dark blue? – hair, nice and tall, and she could just imagine the bulging muscles underneath that armor, not to mention the bandaged eye made him look rugged. The only thing which really bothered her was how pale he was, but hey, no one was perfect.

Except her, of course.

Before she could continue her imaginations, a positively affronted look came on his face. "Oh! How very uncouth of me. My manners are quite lacking." He gave a deep bow, firmly ignoring her hands waving that this was all very unnecessary. "I am Sibyl of Lordran."

Alright! At least he kept it simple, though she had to wonder about the 'of Lodran' part of his introduction. It was definittely his home, but... who introduced themselves without saying their last name anymore? Offering a hand to shake, she introduced herself properly.

"Name's Yang Xiao Long, but you teach me how to fling fireballs and I may just let you call me whatever you want." She added a wink at the end, leaning in to show off her assets a bit more, but he simply rose an eyebrow in response to the teasing. He didn't even glance down at her chest!

"Why would I call you anything but your name? It is fitting."

Jeez... what a buzzkill. The smirk on her face fell. Maybe he needed some physical suggestions? Grabbing his arm and wrapping her own around it, she began walking towards the club where she was going to get some very valuable information from.

"And how exactly is my name fitting?"

He paused, rubbing one hand on his chin. He had a bit of a shadow, but nothing fully grown. "It simply is."

Well, that was a non-answer if she'd ever heard one, but the way he delivered it was... different. Very different, just like the rest of him.

It was actually refreshing, not having some guy fawning over her with either their eyes or endless compliments. She usually would have welcomed it, but in this case, it was annoying, since she was _trying_ to get a response.

"Hmm... Why are we here?"

"My good pal Junior is going to give me some information."

He 'oh'd in acknowledgment, still giving no sign the sensation of the side of her bust against his arm was having any effect. Come on! He _had_ to be feeling it, but no, all he had was a thoughtful if blank look on his face. Where was the fun in teasing without a reaction? Was he gay? If he was, more power to him, but still! Some sort of reaction had to be there. She had a _nice_ pair.

As they entered the club, Sibyl took a long look around. And she did mean _around_ :from the people to the DJ, from the dance floor to the flashing lights overhead. His good eye sparkled with wonder and confusion. So, he was new to clubs, too.

"What is that infernal noise?"

She smiled, releasing his arm and breathing in the aroma which perpetuated Junior's place of business. "It's music, Fireball."

An unconvinced eyebrow was raised at her words. "This? Music? Quite the joke, Miss Xiao Long."

He _did_ have a bit of sass in him! She thought about snapping back, but truth be told, _she_ didn't like it either. "Yeah. I don't really like it either. Oh, and call me Yang; none of that formal stuff."

He nodded, before following behind her like a hawk as she wandered somewhat aimlessly, sending a few glares at those dumb enough to stare at either of them.

He had a mean glare with just one eye.

Scanning her surroundings, she managed to find her target across the room. Approaching the counter with just the right amount of swagger, she captured the bartender's attention instantly. It worked _every_ time. "Strawberry sunrise. No ice. Oh! And one of those little umbrellas." Giving Sibyl a glance, she waited to see if he wanted to order anything. A small shake of the head gave her the answer she was looking for.

Maybe he couldn't handle his liquor and didn't want to be caught ordering something 'unmanly'

"Aren't you a little young to be in this club, Blondie?"

Ah, so he finally said something. Yang turned to the man she had sat next to at the bar. Junior was tall – about the same height as Sibyl, actually, with black hair and a well-groomed beard. Spiffily dressed, too, for a criminal.

"Aren't you a little old to have a name like 'Junior'?"

He rolled his eyes, catching sight of Sibyl standing aside in his own extravagant wear. "He with you?"

Sibyl nodded, not bothering reaching out a hand to introduce himself. Instead, he lost all sense of tact and went right to the heart of matters. "Yes, I am. We come seeking information."

He stepped a bit closer to ole' Junior, giving him a piercing gaze with his one grey eye. "I am under the impression you will be able to provide it?" Well, maybe picking him up wasn't that bad of an idea! He had the tall and scary thing going for him. Nobody would ever take _her_ seriously, at least until she kicked their ass, but Sibyl had all the markings of a threat.

"If you're here for information, I know damn near everything which goes on here in Vale. C'mon, I got a private table for business if you've got the money."

Sibyl gave her a look, and she nodded. Junior stayed a bit in front, eventually picking a table in the back corner of the room. Sibyl allowed her to slide in first – in fact, he didn't even sit.

Well, more room for her.

"Alright, what type of information are you looking for?"

Yang reached into her pocket, retrieving the picture of the woman who birthed her and just _left._ Not that anyone else needed to know that – it would stay with her and her alone. "I'm trying to find someone." She slid the picture across in front of him.

He gave it a look for a few moments. "Huh." Sliding it back to her, he stroked his beard. "Well, normally I'd ask for payment, but I don't take money if I don't have information to give. Never seen her, Kid."

"Oh, come on! They say you know _everything._ Don't try and jerk me around, Junior!" She could feel her hair flaring up in anger. She had already gone to other clubs, and they all told her to come to Junior to get the information. He _had_ to know something, and she wasn't going to let him just scoot around it because he thought she was some dumb kid.

Sibyl leaned forward, putting his full weight atop the table and nearly breaking it. Yang would admit, it _was_ a bit intimidating, especially now that she could see all the scratches on his armor underneath the flashing lights. "You truly know nothing?" Junior nodded, sneering lightly. "I don't know shit about that woman, and trust me, I'd remember seeing someone like her."

Great. Another lead which didn't actually result in _anything_ of value. Just a big, fat waste of her time. "Now, I'm going to be nice despite your attitudes. Get the hell out of my club before I _force_ the both of you out."

Yang's hair was still fiery, and she was ready to just reach across the damn table and slug him for the fun of it. It would have been a good venting of her frustrations – hell, kicking the ass of all the help Junior would send at her would have put her in a _great_ mood.

But, just as she leaned forward in her seat to knock Junior out, Sibyl put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Let us leave, Yang. This place continues to irritate me."

Annoyed, but not _that_ annoyed, she resigned herself to leaving. She made sure to grab her drink first, though.

"Sooo..." Yang began, giving Sibyl an awkward stare, "About that fire stuff you were talking about."

They had already left Junior's, and Sibyl remained quiet all the while. It was an oppressive sort of silence, and she didn't like it.

"The art of pyromancy, yes."

Right, that was what he called it: 'pyromancy', which made enough sense to her.

Shaking her head, she tried to figure out how to word this. She didn't want to just _outright_ ask for him to teach her; they hardly knew each other, after all. Despite how she acted, using her physical tools more directly than she had done so earlier was not something she was willing to do. There was a line she _wouldn't_ cross.

It was a mystery as to how she was going to be able to learn from him anyways, what with going to Beacon as soon as she was. Yang might have been easy-going, but even she knew Beacon was going to be a lot of hard work. If she had to sneak out all the time to try and bond with Sibyl so he'd teach her, she might not even be able to maintain passing grades!

This was all assuming his pyromancy really could be taught. It was just a bit too obscene for her to believe right off the bat.

"What exactly _is_ it?" She asked, ready to tune out his answer if it got uninteresting and use that time to think.

"As my first teacher told me, pyromancy is the art of casting flame, and to do so, one must be in tune with nature itself."

That was as vague an answer as she had ever heard. The only thing it really told her was the basic principle, which even she had been able to figure out when he _summoned_ a stinkin' fireball. Again, though, she was using this to try and figure out how the hell she was going to get him to be her teacher. Nah, not 'teacher'. That was weird to call someone the same age as her, or at least, he looked like it.

Hell, if he wanted to, he could probably go to Beacon.

"…"

That was it. That was it! He could go to Beacon, then teach her while also being a student! All she had to do was show him to Ozpin, explain that he… uh, how was she going to explain _him_? ' _Oh, he wrecked my motorcycle and summoned a fireball, so I kidnapped him and took him to Junior's club as I looked for information on my birth mother!'_ Right, like that would go smoothly.

Damn it. He was staring at her expectantly again.

"You're not exactly from around here, are you?"

"Something of an understatement, but yes, I hail far from here." What was _with_ how he talked?! He sounded like something out of those stupid literature books he had to read. Sure, it didn't sound as bad as she used to imagine it like in her head, but still!

" _Right._ So, what are you doing in Vale, anyways?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Truthfully? I hardly know. I was directed here by a stranger, one in the so-called Badlands, to go to a Beacon Academy and meet with the headmaster, Ozpin."

Yang blinked, staring at him for a few seconds. "Wait. You're going to Beacon?"

He nodded hesitantly, scratching at the stubble he had on his chin. "If I can ever find the place… Really, I don't know why I even bothered listening to that drunk."

"…You took directions from a drunk stranger in the Badlands?"

A palm met his face near instantly, while Yang could feel her cheeks tinge red. "Yes. Not my finest moment, I admit."

"His name… it wasn't Qrow, was it?"

Sibyl's palm slowly removed itself from his face, and he stared at her with a raised brow. "Yes. Yes, it was. How did you know?"

She laughed, resisting the urge to simply _leave._ "That's… uh, that's my uncle."

"Oh." Sibyl was quiet for a few seconds, squinting at her in scrutiny.

"Anyways!" Yang leaned forward, smiling wide. She was eager for a change of subjects. "If _you_ need to go to Beacon, then look no further, Fireball. You're not going to be living on the streets and starving when Mama Yang's around, nope!"

He regarded her silently for a few moments. "I will tell you the same I told Qrow when he attempted to loosen my lips with alcohol. Be frank with your intentions, Yang. Do not think to manipulate me into _teaching_ you my pyromancies."

She sighed softly, staring at the weird guy in front of her with softened eyes. He _definitely_ had trust issues, and _oh God why did her uncle Qrow have to try and get him drunk!?_ It sure didn't help _her_ at all. "Listen, Sibyl. I sorta' kinda' wanna' learn pyromancy from you, but I really am just trying to help you find Beacon. I'm a student there anyways, so it's not like I'm going out of my way."

His one good eye closed slowly. "Very well. I hesitate to say I trust you, but you've given me no reason to distrust, I suppose."

That was good, right? He wasn't trying to hold her threat about Bumblebee over her head like she had tried to do to him. Then again, that might just be how he was. He definitely seemed like a… practical type of guy.

"Perfect! Now, the ship to Beacon leaves in the morning, so we've got awhile to kill. You can stay over at my place for the night. Dad won't be back tonight anyways, so no worries there."

Now she just needed to get Ruby to promise and be quiet...

* * *

"Yaaang," Ruby hissed, likely believing herself to be a _lot_ quieter than she was in reality, "You know you can't bring boys home!"

Yang had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Ruby had dragged her into another room to say _that?_ Of course she knew! That was the whole point of _bribing_ Ruby to stay quiet!

"I know, but DDad isn't here, and _you're_ going to keep quiet about this."

Ruby crossed her arms, huffing like a… uh, fifteen year-old. "Nah, uh! Not this time, Yang. You're not going to bully me into-"

"I'll buy you cookies."

She paused in her ranting, eyes widening at the offer. Yang already knew she had won; her sister just couldn't resist the chocolate chipped goodness. Oh, she'd try, but her resolve would melt in about five seconds.

Five seconds passed, and, well… coughing lightly, Ruby's chin turned up. "Well, I _guess_ I won't tell Dad about this. But the cookies have to be from that bakery down the road!"

Checkmate. Smiling and rubbing her sister's hair into a frizzy state of disarray, she gave her a brief hug. "Oh, I _knew_ I could trust you not to tell Dad. Now, uh… see you tomorrow?"

Her sister sighed, walking off with a small utterance of 'good night'. Eh, she'd handle the odd lack of enthusiasm in the morning. For now, she figured it'd be best to _not_ leave the near-random stranger they had in their house alone. Tracking back into the family room where she'd left the one-eyed wonder, she found him standing over by the fireplace mantle, a picture in his hand.

She knew which picture it was. They only kept one up on the mantle, anyways. It was of her, Ruby, Taiyang, and Summer. Back when things had been simpler and a lot better.

"Your mother and father, I presume?"

She nodded, coming to a stop next to him. "Yeah."

He stared at the picture for a few moments longer before shaking his head. "Quite the family." His finger brushed over Summer's face, stilling briefly.

"Summer's not around anymore, but… we manage."

"Ah. My condolences, then."

She shrugged off the well-meaning words. They'd always irritated her to some degree, but it was just what people said. She wasn't going to let it get her down, though she couldn't resist the opportunity to learn a bit more about _him._ "What about you? Your family?"

He paused, setting the picture back down. "Never had one I could remember – at least, one of blood relation."

Oh, so he was one of those ' _my friends are my family'_ type guys. She could work with that. "Well, what about them? The non-blood relatives, I mean."

He hummed sadly, glancing at the ground. "They've all passed on, I'm afraid."

 _Welp,_ that line of questioning had went from bad to worse. Maybe it was better to just _not_ even talk to Sibyl about personal things? Nothing really struck her as _happy_ about him. Who knows – maybe going to Beacon would help on that front.

Nodding absently at his answer in an attempt to starve off the awkwardness, she moved into the kitchen, grabbing a soda for himself and her. He caught it as she tossed it, looking confused as to just _what the hell it was._ Rolling her eyes, she indicated how to open it upon seeing his clueless expression.

"C'mon! You've never even had soda?"

He took a slow sip from it, savoring the taste. "Unfortunately. Goodness, this is delicious."

Heh. So, the Badlands boy finally enjoying the sweet city life? She had basically given him the tour, actually, now that she thought about it. A motorcycle ride, a club, a glimpse at some of the underground business of Vale, and now, he was having his first soda.

Not bad.

Plopping down on the sofa beside him, she put her feet up on the table. Unlike _him,_ she was dressed in something normal. Her damn sofa cushions were going to cave in with that armor of his…

"You _really_ need to change into something else."

He looked _genuinely_ upset with her comment. "What? Why? This armor has been reinforced many times by a plethora of the greatest blacksmiths I have ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"Hey, no need to get so _hot_ about it." Resisting the urge to snicker at her own pun, she continued on, "I'm just saying, you're going to ruin the sofa cushions."

He 'oh'dat that, looking down at the cushions he was sitting atop. "I see… perhaps you're right." Rising to his feet, he couldn't stop grimacing lightly as he saw the sofa seat fix itself to its right form.

"Actually… I, uh, don't mean to be rude, but when's the last time you _showered?"_

He looked at her with confusion, head tilting lightly.

 _'_ _Oh, my God, he's actually having to think about it!'_

"Forgive me, but I can't say I've ever been _showered._ Do you perhaps mean with gifts?"

Both her hands came up to cover her face. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but _just_ stopped herself with the realization of how _disgusting_ that was. "Bathe! I mean 'bathed' – when the hell is the last time you had a bath?!"

He sneered at her lightly, wiping at his nose and seemingly insulted. "Please, I am not some Blight Town ogre. I took a dip in the Darkwood Lake… err..." He raised a few fingers before shaking his head, starting his count over.

"Gods above… has it really been _that_ long?"

His face was tinged red as he refused to meet her eyes. Well, at least she had made him realize it. Much as it was _somewhat_ funny to watch him suffer, she decided to not savor it for too long. "Talk about losing track of time. Anyways, just follow Mama Yang and I'll show you the bathroom; you can clean yourself up."

He did so diligently, eyes staying stuck on the ground. Man, hereally _was_ embarrassed about that, wasn't he? Not that she exactly blamed him – it _was_ very embarrassing, not even remembering the last time he freakin' bathed without having to count on _both hands._ Moving into the bathroom, she held back a laugh as he had to squeeze through the door.

It was a bit tight with the both of them in there, but she just needed to show him how to turn on the shower and then the spacing wouldn't seem so bad. "Right knob for cold, left for hot. You just turn it like so, push this in, and ta-da!" Water spewed out of the showerhead, splattering against the wall and spraying them with some of the excess water.

She turned the knob back off, pointing at the conditioner and body wash, just in case he was _that_ new to things. "You can borrow Dad's body wash and shampoo." All that was left was for him to change out of that bulky armor. Wait – did he even have clothes to change into? "Are you going to need clothes?"

His head shook in the negative, so she shrugged, gesturing for him to follow. "You can change in the spare room, just put your armor wherever."

"I thank you for the hospitality, Yang."

"Eh, you helped me keep my cool at Junior's. Its fine, just go shower."

Nodding, he closed the door, and she could only presume begin to get changed out of his armor. Standing outside the spare room for just a few moments, she sighed, heading back to the living room to finish her drink and maybe watch something on the television.

She zoned out, vaguely hearing the shower running in the background. All of this was working out pretty well… he was starting to be pretty grateful to her. And sure, she would have done most of this even if he _couldn't_ possibly teach her how to throw fireballs, but given that he _did_ know how to throw fireballs and could teach other people to, it had to be helping her odds.

It made her feel a little guilty, thinking about how she could angle all of this to get him to teach her… but c'mon! Who _wouldn't_ want to toss fireballs? Hell, it would go great with her hair _and_ her fighting style. Mostly the hair, though. Still, letting him use their shower was one thing; it would probably take a bit more to get him to teach her something as awesome as pyromancy.

They were going to be on teams at Beacon; she knew that much. She could already imagine their group – her, Ruby, Sibyl, and… the fourth person didn't matter; the group was already cool enough with just the three of them.

Maybe he could teach Ruby too? Her little sister had _somehow_ gotten into Beacon two years early, so while ahead for her age, she wasn't _as_ good as she would have been when seventeen. Beyond anything else in her life, Yang needed Ruby to be safe. If Sibyl could help with that, she'd be eternally grateful.

"Yang, you _must_ keep introducing me to the oddities of Vale. That shower was _splendid…_ I've never felt so spry."

Glancing over her shoulder, she blinked at what he was wearing. It was a black robe, hemmed with… gold? There was definitely some sort of gold chain wrapped around his waist, but she _swore_ the hems of the robe were also highlighted gold.

"Huh. Think you could hook a girl up with a robe like that, Fireball?"

Chuckling, he moved to sit beside her, his hair looking a _lot_ better than it had earlier. She noticed she had been right about his hair. It was tinted blue.

"It's something of an old antique. Not many like it which aren't in tatters."

"We could share – it looks pretty loose," she suggested, wiggling her eyebrows. His face scrunched in confusion, once again reminding her he knew as much about flirting as he did showers. "I think not. It's… well, it's one of my few _comfortable_ sets. Best not to ruin it."

Things grew silent for a few moments as he stared at the television, mouth turning from a line into a frown. She decided to just turn it off before being forced to explain it as well. "So, think you're going to attend Beacon as a student?"

He played with the sleeve of his robe, twisting it lightly around his fingers. "Perhaps. Qrow gave me very few details on precisely _what_ Beacon is, exactly."

That sounded like her uncle. "It's an academy where students go to become hunters. You _do_ know what hunters are, right?"

He nodded. "Yes. Qrow explained the term to me. Humanity's protectors, he called them. They fight the threat of Grimm."

One less thing for her to explain. Thankfully Qrow had thought to answer a _few_ things before trying to get Sibyl drunk. _God,_ she couldn't believe he uncle had done tha- wait. No, she could. Qrow _definitely_ had tried to get Sibyl drunk. "Yeah. Why _are_ you going to Beacon, anyways?"

"…Qrow claimed the headmaster might be able to help me get back to my homeland, Lordran."

Lordran, huh. He had used it in his introduction earlier, too, so it was nice to have confirmation about it. She had never heard of it, not that it was some big surprise. Wherever he came from didn't even have showers, which meant it was either centuries old or _very far_ away. Her money was on the latter.

Still, recommending he go to Beacon was about as good as a plan she could come up with. If the headmaster of Beacon couldn't get him home, no one could. "So, you're _not_ planning on staying?"

"I have a duty to fulfill, Yang, though rest assured I do not think my return home will be a quick endeavor."

Duty to fulfill, huh. She wouldn't pry… yet. Instead, she was going to head to bed. The airship to beacon left early tomorrow, and she had to get up even earlier to look her best.


	3. Heart of Beacon

_**Chapter three, delivered. Chapter six is around halfway complete at the moment, and I'm writing it as I continue to proofread those that I've already written. Once I've posted all the chapters that have been pre-written, I will be attempting to update every ten days. My chapters run a bit on the longer side, anywhere between 9000 words to 12000, so it takes some time. My work schedule can be uneven, too, as sometimes I stay later than other days and it affects my writing time.**_

 _ **I go to the gym after work, so if I have to stay until 12:30 like I sometimes have to, I don't write that night.**_

 _ **Anyways, thanks for all those who reviewed and followed. I appreciate the gesture. In regards to the story itself, I will say, for those curious, that my own plot will really begin to be hinted at around chapter seven. I believe in a slow buildup, both to make the world and the characters more lively before having any important events that diverge from established canon. As for pairings, I won't confirm nor deny anything. Life is rather fluid, and I'm doing my best to reflect that in this story. This isn't a romance story, either, but I feel most stories that don't attempt to have some sort of romance lack a certain level of realism that makes reading more enjoyable.**_

 ** _If you have any criticisms, advice, questions or more, please leave it in a review or PM me. I'll answer to the best of my ability._**

 _ **Edit: Again, special thanks to my beta,**_ _ **ekaterina016.**_

* * *

Sibyl was rather nervous. It was a feeling he was not entirely used to, at least not in the way he was feeling it then. Anxiety over an upcoming fight could be common; Lords knew he had experienced it prior to his fight with the black dragon Kalameet of Oolacile. Most of the Lords had caused him to feel a similar nervousness, while Manus... Manus had made him to feel fear, a different emotion entirely.

The nervousness he was currently feeling was different than what he had experienced in the past, however. It was akin to a pit in his stomach, curling in on itself and squeezing. It was _very_ irritating, and he wished it would dissipate at once.

Shaking his head, he took a deep breath. Really, this was all terribly unfounded. He was the damn Chosen Undead, someone who had stared down the greatest of odds and come out on top time and time again. The fact he was nervous over something as simple as this was absurd!

Maybe it was the fact the headmaster of this academy had simply accepted his request at a meeting with but a single call from Yang? They had not even confirmed he had _really_ met Qrow. It was rather suspicious in his head, truthfully. Why would they accept someone so easily? Even Frampt had been much more... intensive, requiring the retrieval of the Lordvessel before he believed Sibyl to be the chosen undead of prophecy.

Beyond his questions on why he was accepted so easily, were others: how was he supposed to act? He was rather out of practice around such immature individuals, and he most certainly didn't feel himself fit to be at some academy for learning, though at least it was for something he was _very_ experienced in.

Everything was such an impossibility, yet here he was.

Banishing any further thoughts of doubt from his mind, he moved back to focusing on the sight out of the window in front of him. It was a near-breathtaking sight, one on par with his first gaze upon the great city of Anor Londo. They were flying as high as the clouds, the steel... thing they were in piercing through the white fluff.

Some may think him a fool, staring out the window with such wonder and a wide grin upon his features, and if that was so, he would gladly play the role of a fool. It was simply incredible, and he wished he could figure out what made such a flying ship possible. Was it magic on par with Oolacile or the general ingenuity of Sen's Fortress? Was it something _beyond_ his knowledge, so much so just attempting to understand it would have his head ringing in pain? Which one did he even _want_ it to be? Each option would bring with it questions.

If it was magic, he would have to figure out how to cast it himself. The value such a spell could have was unthinkable. "Remarkable," he muttered under his breath, eyeing the sun in the far distance.

"Isn't she?" Yang agreed with a squeal, capturing his attention and promptly confounding him. "Let's celebrate!"

What they were celebrating was a bit beyond him; he watched with confusion as Yang moved and wrapped up her smaller sister into some sort of bear-hug, clearly crushing the girl if the wheezing was any judge. "My baby sister is going to Beacon with me!"

Sibyl shook his head at the antics, returning his gaze to the window. Much as the sisters were amusing, he felt out of place watching the warm gestures and affections. While he certainly had bonds with his friends, all of whom were now dead, they hadn't been as clearly affectionate. A firm hand on the shoulder was all they had ever needed to get words across.

He'd always found a certain charm in that.

The only time he experienced anything more _warm_ was in his few ventures with the fairer sex – no, not even them. He'd never really had time to develop them besides some honey-laced words. Tragedy always struck, or there were demons and Gods to be slain; things everyone, them included, deemed more important than his feelings. Because really, what was one undead's personal woes worth when the fate of all undead rested on his shoulders? That was why Rhea had rebuked his affections.

Sighing, Sibyl felt the stares being directed at him from behind. He could only ponder as to why most were staring at him. Maybe they thought his fascination with the sky odd; perhaps it was armor and wrapped eye which drew their attention. If he had to bet a humanity sprite on it, however, he would say it was the incredibly large Greataxe which rested upon his shoulder.

If he was to be meeting the headmaster of a school who trained people to slay Grimm, he ought to look properly equipped.

"...but I'm so proud of you!"

Smirking lightly, he turned his gaze away from the sky. He wasn't going to be able to properly appreciate the sight with Yang in such close proximity, nor with the stares baring into him. The atmosphere was somewhat uncomfortable, what with the numerous conversations and small-talk going on all around. Such things were rare in Lordan; he had been lucky to find _one_ sane soul to talk to, much less a room full of them.

It wasn't without its draws, though. At least these people of Vale kept it more lively. Everyone here seemed so... normal, or at least what he imagined normal to be. Then again, Yang had seemed remarkably normal until her hair caught fire. This was a school for hunters, as well... everyone in here likely had a Semblance of some sort.

They were supposed to be incredibly versatile and almost entirely unique. He looked forward to seeing them in action.

Humming softly, Sibyl scanned the crowd of would-be students. None stood out in any way worth noticing. There _was_ a remarkable amount of hair colors, however. Such a strange land he found himself in, though it was of no real issue. His own hair was tinted blue, after all, a quality often found in Carim. He could only guess he came from that land, though anything before his awakening at the Asylum remained a mystery. His true hair color was also remarkably hard to see without proper lighting.

Ears ringing, he slowly turned towards something Yang had called a projection. It seemed to have some sort of message for them, impressively translated with actual voices and people within it. It was quite the fantastic magic which he endeavored to learn; the ability to pass information along instantly and over a long way seemed incredibly useful.

There was a red-haired man on the screen, staring back with a smirk so smug he nearly mistook his lips for Patches. Perhaps the man had more in common with Patches than just a smirk, however, as the strange people on the screen explained 'Roman Torchwick'to be an infamous criminal whose deeds sounded more like a petty thief to his ears. He was so famous for simply _stealing._ It made no sense.

But what did he know? Practically nothing.

As a new woman suddenly appeared on the projection, he felt his interest dip. She was quite attractive, with blonde hair and glasses, but that wasn't enough to ensnare him after meeting Gwynevere. Of course, then she introduced herself as a Glynda Goodwitch, and he remembered she was who he was supposed to give Qrow's note to. Giving her another once over, he realized that yes, she really was like how Qrow had described.

His attention reignited, he actually paid some degree of attention to her introduction. She didn't really say all _that_ much, so he nearly interrupted to explain who he was – but then remembered Yang saying these were 'pre-recorded' and 'one-way'. What he gathered from that was she wouldn't be able to hear him, so it seemed he'd have to find her later.

"…get it off, get it off…"Yang uttered repeatedly, shaking her shoe in an attempt to get the puke some poor boy had deposited upon her feet off. A bit of it was flung at Ruby, resulting in _two_ girls freaking out over something so trivial. Velka above – may the two of them never find themselves in Blight Town or even the Depths.

Was this his punishment for killing so many Gods?

* * *

Sibyl had managed to separate himself from the dynamic duo of Yang and Ruby quite easily, given the two of them had been distracted trying to clean themselves off after the puking incident on the airship. It had been a simple matter to slip away as Yang cleaned her shoe. He felt it was rude to simply leave them without a word, yet the relief was enough to make him not actually _care._ They weren't bad company per se, but rather exhausting to deal with given how used he was to his more subdued past company.

While internally promising to find them later, he was also looking forward to some time alone.

That had been the thought, anyways. His logic had been fairly simple: he was going to explore the academy grounds himself, ideally finding Glynda Goodwitch or the mysterious Ozpin whom he had only heard about. If he could explore the depths of lost civilizations and their dangerous ruins, then he could explore some _school grounds._

…was what he had told himself. Reality seemed to have a different idea on the situation.

"Damnation… Where _am I?"_ It was the third or fourth courtyard he had found himself in. _Why were there so many courtyards?!_ Who designed this place? Had they lived in courtyard seclusion for the entirety of their lives, longing for an opportunity to frolic in them freely?

His goal had been to find Goodwitch or Ozpin, and he only now realized that was a damn impossibility on his own. He had navigated every corner of Lordran without a shred of trouble, yet this place bested him? He was disgusted with himself. "Drat… perhaps I should have stayed with Yang?" He paused, glancing up to the sky above.

No, the extended silence was well worth it.

" _Excuse_ _me?_ Would you mind _not_ taking up the entire walkway?"

Well, the silence had been worth it, but all good things always came to an end. Ey turning down, he blinked at the girl who had saw fit to ask him to move. Stark white hair and a scar upon her eye were what stood out at first glance. Finer details came in thereafter; she had stunning blue eyes and a slim figure. Not to mention it was more than just her hair which was white. She seemed to have something of a theme going with the color, her dress spectacularly matching with light blue and silver notes.

Coughing lightly upon realizing he had stared for more than a few moments, he rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. "Forgive me. I was distracted." He turned sideways, giving her an easy way passed.

The girl sniffed daintily, nodding in a dignified manner and preparing to go on her way past him.

He was not so quick to let an opportunity pass. "…If it's not too much trouble, Miss, might you have any idea on _where_ we're supposed to be going?"

She glanced over her shoulder, giving him a scrutinizing stare which bordered on annoyed. "Hmph. Very well. As the Schnee heiress, I should be able to lower myself to a simple guide from time to time."

It was a fancy way of saying yes, but he was simply glad she had _said_ yes, snobbish demeanor aside.

Inclining his head in thanks, he stepped in beside her. "I thank you. I am Sibyl. It is a pleasure, Miss…?"

Her face scrunched slightly, an expression associated with confusion. Why was she confused? Wome- nae, _people_ confused him, and likely always would. Nonetheless, she introduced herself, "Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Corporation. Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't recognize me."

"I am new to this land, so do entertain any ignorance I may have." Yang had been remarkably good at doing it, but he was hardly expecting most to put up with him being clueless. A shame indeed, but he would figure things out in time. Hopefully.

Weiss scanned him for a few moments, eventually nodding. "I didn't think you were from around here. You hardly look… normal."

As true a statement one could make. He _did_ stand out like a sore thumb compared to those around him, with his hair, his scars, and his wear. Quite the trifecta, up there with the three main branches of magic.

"Still, you seem to have your head on straight, unlike _some_ of the people around here."

He laughed a genuine laughter he hadn't let loose in some time. A _very_ long time. Him, with his head on straight, as they say? He ought to have told that one to Siegmeyer before his passing; they both would have gotten a great kick out of it. The day he had his head on straight was the day Logan didn't have a ginormous hat atop his head, even when he was under delusions of being a _dragon._ If Patches ever stopped with his petty theft and tricks, _then_ he might have his head on straight.

Perhaps when Laurentius took up sorcery, his head would be on-

"Are you done?" Weiss questioned, a bit of snap in her tone. Oh, had he upset her?

A hand was held up in defense, hopefully easing some of her irritation. "I didn't mean any offense. I've just… never had anyone imply I have my things in order, as it were."

She rolled her eyes, lips smirking up slightly. "Well, I didn't say _that._ I said it seemed like you did."

"Still as big a compliment as I've ever received."

She nodded, crossing her arms as she walked. "Yes, well, do try to not make me retract it. I've already dealt with _one_ imbecile today."

He had been around the Darkmoon Knightress enough to know that it was his cue to ask _what_ she was talking about, precisely, even if he didn't entirely care. "An imbecile, you say?"

Weiss sighed heavily and dramatically before continuing, "I'm afraid so. I came to Beacon because I expected _high_ standards, yet they let someone so young in here who nearly _killed_ me after just getting off the transport!"

Sibyl stroked his chin, trying to figure out just how badly things had to go for _that_ series of events to occur. Just off the transport and putting lives in danger? It was impressive. Still, it was just as likely an accident. The logical side of his mind had already dismissed the notion of whoever nearly injured Weiss as being an imbecile – at least one entirely.

"If someone young gained entry, it's prudent to assume they have some exceptional skill in the slaying of Grimm."

The Schnee heiress dismissed his words with her eyes near-instantly, giving him a sidelong stare. "I highly doubt that little girl is skilled at anything other than causing accidents."

Wait… a younger girl who gained entry to Beacon had nearly killed her _right_ after getting off the transport, presumably in some sort of accident? While he had only known her a _very_ short while, the description fit a bit too closely

He decided to stay quiet on the matter, knowing better than to put himself between a feud of two girls. Glancing around briefly, he tried to find a change of subjects. Luckily, Weiss was carrying one at her waist.

"…a fine-looking rapier you have, with both a sharp point and a thicker blade for a cutting edge, though I think the length of the weapon itself is somewhat short. I always favored a longer rapier like the estoc."

She gave him a long look, mouth forming into a thin line. "I hardly expected you to have any experience with a rapier, given that large hunk of steel one might call an axe."

All he could do was shrug at her words. She was right; the Black Knight Greataxe was effectively a large, sharpened hunk of steel at the end of a pole. It was terribly unbalanced, unwieldy, and _incredibly_ powerful in his hands. "I am experienced in all manners of weapons, but yes, I do favor _'hunks of steel_ ', as you say." It hadn't been his intention, really, but when everything he fought just kept getting _bigger_ and bigger, he adjusted accordingly.

"I can't imagine fighting with that. It's _obscenely_ unbalanced."

"It took some adjusting, but I manage."

She stopped as they arrived at a large doorway, the doors themselves already propped open. "Well, this is it. All students were directed to meet here for further instructions." And indeed, he could see the students had listened. The place was packed. Litters upon litters of students stood within, all chatting. There were a lot of them, and oddly, he could almost… feel them? It wasn't something he was used to.

A part of him likened it to the feeling of a soul, yet he wasn't-

Sibyl stumbled forward, free hand reaching up to clutch at his eye as it spasmed. He set his axehead against the ground to help balance him, a few of the students nearby stepping back at the impact of it against the ground. He paid them no mind, mostly because it was hard to focus on anything else except the burning in his eye. Gods, _why did this have to happen to him?_ Fighting the Abyss had been bad enough; the taint was even worse.

The undead had already dismissed the possibility of it ever healing. He was going to be stuck with it like this for the rest of his life, or until it consumed him entirely. He was getting used to seeing out of one eye, yet when his other one flared up like this, he felt well and truly blind.

"S-Sibyl? Are you alright?"

He forced his hand down, forming a fist with it and turning his knuckles white beneath his glove. "Just… phantom pains."

Oh, there was nothing phantom about the pain. It was as real as anything else.

"…if you're sure."

He tried to give no visual indication his eye burned _worse_ as he stepped further and furtherinto the room. Weiss was at his side and still looked vaguely concerned.

Well, she didn't have anything to worry about. He had dealt with far worse pains. This was nothing, even if it was _constant_ and burning and _kept getting worse and worse._ He was fine. It was fine. Weiss and himself moved deeper into the crowd, settling somewhat near the center as he forced people to part. His bulky build and armor was quite good for that, if nothing else.

Perhaps the axe resting against his shoulder helped, too.

"Well, everyone's supposed to be here in five minutes, so I imagine that's when we'll begin-"

Sibyl nearly struck his elbow at whoever saw fit to pull him into an awkward

side-hug, stopping from doing so _only_ because he saw the golden locks of hair swoosh by the side where he could _still see_.

"O-ho, look at you, Fireball. Already making moves with the ladies, eh?"

His one good, undead eye blinked. "What?"

Yang's face fell as she released him, backing up a few steps and shaking her head. "You are no fun at all," the blonde pouted.

What in Lordran was she going on about? He would hardly make romantic moves on someone he had only just met. Was everyone except him insane? Would his _eye stop burning?_ The pain was lessening somewhat, or perhaps he was just getting used to it. He'd bet good souls it was the latter.

"Excuse me? Who exactly are you?" Weiss questioned, looking between him and Yang with scrutinizing eyes.

" _What?_ Fireball here didn't tell you all about Mama Yang?"

The chosen undead palmed his face, dragging the hand down. "Yang, _please_ attempt to make some degree of sense. I am trying-"

" _Yaaang,_ why did you just leave me!"

Oh, great, now Ruby had arrived. Well, it would allow him to see if his theory was-

" _"It's you!""_

Both Weiss and Ruby cried at the same time, one voice angry, the other frightened. It made for an interesting parallel to his ears.

"Wait, you two know each other?" Yang questioned, only slightly more confused than he was. All the insight he had was the two had crossed each other and Ruby had, somehow, nearly killed Weiss… or so she claimed. He rather doubted the validity of such a statement. People could be dramatic, though then again, he had stared death in the face far more often than anyone else. Perhaps it was Weiss's first near encounter, and she was left shaken by it.

" _Yes._ This reckless _child_ nearly blew us off the cliff side!"

"Oh my God, you really exploded…" The blonde muttered to her sister, staring with wide eyes.

Sibyl rubbed two fingers against the side of his forehead in a vain attempt at lightening the headache he was beginning to get on _top_ of his eye's constant burning. He paid no mind to the arguing going on alongside him, something about 'Dust' and 'safety regulations'.

It was terribly uninteresting, so tuning it out was hardly a problem. Instead, he focused on things much more interesting. Namely, those around him. Not all of them – the majority were hardly worth a glance over, as boring and normal as they came. Yet mixed within their numbers were strange, strange people, relatively few of them, yet the feature they had was extraordinary. _Animal features._ He had thought to have seen some in the club himself and Yang visited, but he had dismissed it as a trick of the dark. Now, he wasn't so sure.

They looked very real, given how they twitched and perked up at the appropriate times. Did they assist with hearing? Was it possible to get a pair, or was it a natural feature similar to how Dusk's ears had been pointed? Did they exhibit other features animals might have? _How_ did they come to be?

He longed to learn more about the odd people and their strange features. If he had wolf ears, he would have been able to navigate Sen's Fortress with ease. He might have even heard that damnable chest sleeping…

"Sibyl? Are you even paying attention?"

He shook his head in a 'no', sighing at the scathing tone Weiss had used. "I won't pick a side in your petty squabble, handle it yourselves."

The white-haired Heiress tried to speak more, but a clearing of the throat echoed all around the room. Sibyl wasn't much sure where it came from, so he simply followed where all the other eyes turned towards: the stage, where a man with grey hair stood. Behind him and to the right was the woman he was supposed to be meeting with: Glynda Goodwitch.

"I'll keep this brief," he began, not even introducing himself. Somewhat arrogant, but if he was speaking to such a crowd, he might be important and recognizable. "You have traveled here today in search of knowledge, to hone your craft and acquire new skills."

While such an assumption hardly applied to him, it made sense for the rest of the crowd. He doubted he would learn much at all from this place.

"And when you have finished, you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people."

Qrow's explanation on hunters at least seemed to hold up under scrutiny.

"But when I look among you, all I see is wasted energy, potential in need of purpose and direction. You assume knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this academy will prove that knowledge can only carry you so far."

The chosen undead felt inclined to agree. It was a… startling speech, really, one he wished he would have heard when leaving on his venture, little more than a foolish boy. He had learned it in a much more difficult manner, yet as Logan often said: what was learning without experience? Most of the kids in this room would see his words as mad ramblings. Such was the ignorance of the inexperienced.

"It is up to you to take the first step." The man stepped back, walking aside with the unneeded assistance of his cane.

Glynda stepped up to the voice-echoing device, speaking slowly in the wake of the speech. "All first-year students will gather in the ballroom tonight. Tomorrow your initiation begins, so be ready." There were a few murmurs through the crowd, but she was not done. "All students, except for Sibyl Lordran, are dismissed."

Everyone looked around in confusion, with most taking the cues from the group of girls who knew _he_ was 'Sibyl Lordran' _._ Really, they had insisted upon giving him some last name? It sounded odd to his ears, but it could have been worse. Grunting, he adjusted the axe resting against his shoulder and took strides forward. He gave a wave over his shoulder at the three who knew him.

It was time to meet with Goodwitch, and soon thereafter, Ozpin.

* * *

Glynda had been expecting… well, she wasn't entirely sure what she had been expecting when Qrow sent a mysterious message two days ago that he'd _'sent a package their way'_.For someone as eccentric as Qrow, it could have meant nearly anything. And she really did mean _anything,_ from a keg of beer to notes on a new species of Grimm. It kept things lively, not that she appreciated it.

Herself and Ozpin had spent some time wondering what it could be when they got a phone call from Qrow's niece, Yang Xiao Long. She was an upcoming student at Beacon, so her calling wasn't much of a surprise, even if it had come in exceptionally late at night. What _had_ been a surprise was when Yang claimed to have someone her uncle had instructed to go to Beacon with her.

Qrow refused to ever communicate clearly, partly because he enjoyed annoying her, partly because it was always a risk. Given how important it was to not have any information slips, Glynda continued to put up with it.

Yet, despite knowing Qrow had sent someone their way, she _still_ hadn't expected the boy in front of her. He certainly didn't look like any student she'd taught before; he looked far more like an experienced hunter. He wore bulky armor reminiscent of a knight, a set which had clearly seen wear and abuse judging by the appearance. It _was_ well-cared for, she could tell that much, but there was only so much anyone could do.

His weapon was a mixture of odd and impressive. It was an axe, presently resting against his shoulder, attached to an excessively long pole and with a bladed head so large she could only think of a few hunters she had met in her lifetime who could even hope to wield it with any semblance of balance and skill. She was forced to assume he was skilled with it, until proven otherwise.

Most noteworthy, however, was that at such a tender age, his left eye was wrapped by cloth, completely covered. It was an assumption, yes, but she felt it a safe one to say that the wound would not recover. He surely would have taken steps to fix it otherwise.

Glynda stared at Sibyl, her face impassive as he came to a stop in front of her. She would give no visual cues on her idle thoughts.

"Greetings. I am Sibyl _of_ Lordran," he emphasized in his introduction, seemingly cross at having been given a last-name. It was something she had done for clarity's sake _and_ to help prevent him from standing out any more than was needed.

Students were often self-conscious about such things.

Her efforts might have failed, but he at least didn't seem seriously bothered by it. A mild irritation at most.

She extended a hand to shake, his leather glove meeting it quickly and firmly. "I am Glynda Goodwitch." It was a subtle thing, but she _did_ appreciate he maintained eye contact. None who _knew_ her ever made the mistake of wandering, but first-time students sometimes did.

"A pleasure, Lady Goodwitch. Qrow told me some things, but… well, to be frank, I tuned most of his mad ramblings out."

Wonderful, she might end up having to fix whatever mess Qrow had made. Sibyl had at least made the right decision to ignore most of what came out of the drunk's mouth. She could hardly blame him for doing so and was in fact a bit worried to find out if Qrow had done or said anything… Qrow-like. "All good things, I hope?"

Sibyl smirked lightly. "Rest assured, Lady Goodwitch, anything Qrow might consider a negative, _I_ see as a positive."

She quirked a brow. So, Qrow had been talking badly of her, had he? And, on top of that, it seemed their resident explorer _really_ hadn't made the greatest impression. That was nothing new, of course. She still remember the first time he met Winter Schnee...

She was getting a headache just thinking about it.

The boy in front of her paused, narrowing his one good eye at her. "I trust _you_ won't be attempting to loosen my lips with alcohol?"

She resisted the urge to palm her face, mostly because it would have been very unprofessional to do in front of a potential student. Mentally, however, she was groaning. No one made her job easy; _she_ was the one who had to deal with everyone, while Qrow spat in the face of responsibility all the time! Ozpin just said mysterious one-liners and stepped on toes…

"Yes, well, I am sorry for that. Qrow, skilled as he may be, is something of a headcase." She was going to kill him. He tried to get this boy _drunk_ and didn't even succeed!? The one thing he was good at had failed miserably. ' _Deep breaths, Glynda. In and out…'_

Right. She could deal with his idiocy later.

"Do not stress on it too much. I've experienced much worse; it was actually quite tame and at least _somewhat_ subtle."

Sighing lightly in relief, she allowed herself a strained smile. Altogether, considering how bad things could be, they were going well.

It was both concerning to hear _and_ a relief. Qrow wasn't exactly known for his foresight, so it was good Sibyl didn't seem the type to hold grudges. On the other hand, what seventeen, eighteen years-old teenager _didn't_ hold grudges for something as severe as that? It was a breach of trust at the absolute _best._

Puzzle pieces were beginning to come together in her mind, but it would be some time until she figured it all out. She idly picked out a scar on his collarbone, one which ran down to whoknows _where_. No stranger to combat, clearly. She tried not to think about what other possible scars he hid beneath that bulky armor.

"And besides, _he_ paid for it all." The knight-reminiscent chuckled, and her lips _almost_ twitched upwards. Almost.

"Please follow me. We should go someplace more private to discuss your situation."

He did so diligently, following her aside as she moved to meetup with Ozpin. "Oh, before I forget. Qrow gave me something for you." He reached into a pocket, pulling out… a napkin? God… she could _feel_ the vein throbbing on her forehead. Nonetheless, she took the napkin, unfolding it to reveal another napkin.

At least he thought to cover it and preserve it. She opened it as she walked, staring at the words written on it in damn-near scribbles.

' _Kid's got a weird-ass eye, be sure to take a look at it. He appeared with some inferno in the sky, and I found him tearing up Grimm. Says he comes from 'Lordran, Land of the Gods'. Crazy shit, right? Anyways, I told him Ozpin would be able to help. Oh, and ask about his pyromancy, which isn't_ a _Semblance_. _It could turn the tide for us against_ _ **them**_ _._

' _Cheers – Qrow'_

"He has quite the way with words," Sibyl spoke, disturbing her idle thoughts. She was grateful for it, mostly because they were not _happy_ thoughts. It took her a moment to realize what he said meant _he_ had read the note himself. Given that Qrow had tried to get him _drunk,_ she didn't blame him. She would have done the same exact thing.

They would _have_ to repair the trust Qrow had thrown out the window, especially if Ozpin was going to do what she expected.

"Qrow's vulgar vocabulary aside, I would very much like to meet and speak with this Ozpin."

Right, they were getting distracted. Qrow was hundreds of miles away and _still_ managed to disrupt things.

"Of course, his office is just ahead."

Taking the silence as a chance to reflect, she considered Qrow's note. He _had_ put some prudent information there. The eye which he covered was not _gone,_ apparently, but was an oddity. She was most interested in his pyromancy, which had to be some sort of fire-based ability, but one which _wasn't a_ Semblance?

According to everything they knew, that should have been impossible... with emphasis on 'should' _._ She wanted to say it _was_ impossible, but there were a lot of things she would have considered impossible which were in fact very real. She had let go of the notion of impossible long ago – anything was possible… even if it was far-fetched. They would have to discuss it; she was hardly going to call him a liar. Relations had been damaged enough already. Focusing on the rest of the note, she was happy to hear he _was_ able to rip through Grimm, presumably with that axe. If he were to attend here, it would make things much easier for him.

Opening the door to Ozpin's office, she allowed Sibyl to enter before her. While Glynda understood why Ozpin had insisted they meet in his office, she didn'tunderstand why Ozpin couldn't have just _walked_ with them to his office. Just another thing she didn't understand about him, because nothing he did made sense to anyone _with_ sense. She was the only sane one at the entire school! Peter might have been the second sanest, which just spoke on the absolute _insanity_ she had to deal with regularly.

The headmaster in question was sitting at his desk, coffee in hand like it always was. "Ah, yes. Mr. Sibyl, was it?"

The young man nodded, setting his abundantly sized axe up against the wall. "Ozpin, I presume?"

An incline of the head was Ozpin's reply as he gestured to the seat in front of him, taking an idle sip from his mug. Sibyl took the seat, albeit hesitantly.

"I'm glad you made it here safe, young man."

Sibyl rolled his shoulder, finally settling into his seat. "I was fortunate enough to be found by Miss Yang."

Ozpin set his drink down, leaning forward slightly. "Yes, she is one of our premier new students. I'm looking forward to having her for the next few years."

Things were silent for a few moments after Ozpin finished speaking, a silence only ended by Ozpin himself. "Let us skip the pleasantries. I don't think you came all this way for them."

Sibyl sighed in relief, his shoulders losing the tenseness previously present. Maybe he wasn't used to things so trivial? It was worth noting.

"No, I did not. I come from a land _very_ far from here." He paused, taking a deep breath and clenching his fists on the armrests of his chair. He nearly splintered the wood with the amount of force he was putting into the grip. All the stress he had was released with an exhale, his hands finally loosening. "You may think of me as mad, and indeed, I might be. But I hail from so far away, in fact, that we do not even share the same moon."

 _What?_ That was ridiculous, obscene. It sounded like something Qrow would say when absolutely _plastered._ Had the drunk bastard paid him to say that? Based on the completely serious face he was showing, the answer was 'no' _._ She forced her eyes shut and reset her mindset. Yes, the idea of a different _moon_ was silly, something only possible in fiction.

So was the idea of magical maidens.

"…that is quite the bold claim. I'll admit to being skeptical."

The would-be knight rose to his feet, shaking his head. "Only a fool would believe such a tall tale. I hardly believe it myself, yet here we are. Tell me, Ozpin. What do you know of the Soul Arts? Of pyromancy, miracles, and sorceries?"

She waited for his response. To _her,_ two of those sounded like nonsense, yet Ozpin remained calm.

"Nothing."

It was admirable how well Ozpin dealt with things like this, but that was why _he_ was the headmaster. Sibyl didn't say anything, simply holding up a hand and conjuring a ball of fire. It was mesmerizing, with a red tinge as opposed to a normal orange, or even yellow. Glynda could even _feel_ it, and she wasn't talking about the heat. It was almost as if he had concentrated his Aura to form it, but even that wasn't a good enough way to describe it.

"You would think this a Semblance, yes?" Both of them nodded. The ability to conjure fire was not _entirely_ uncommon, and was actually a well-documented, powerful Semblance. Logic told her it was a Semblance, yet she remembered Qrow's note.

He let the fire fade from his hand, shushing it quietly with no visible effort. "Pyromancy is connected to the Chaos Flame, and it is nothing like your Semblances. _Anyone_ could learn pyromancy if they desired, including the both of you. Age does not prevent it, nor does race or sex."

All were silent as he reached towards his boot, pulling out some odd, white branch. She recognized it for what it was instantly, mostly because her 'weapon' functioned in a similar way.

It was a Focus.

He waved the ivory branch, and as he did so, a small, blue arrow shot forward, slamming against the far wall and doing relatively minimal damage. She _still_ narrowed her eyes at him, enjoying the slight flinch. Good. Far too many students had no respect for their school.

"That is the weakest and most common of the soul sorceries: the Soul Arrow. I am somewhat of an expert in the art, though perhaps not to the same degree of the mastery and ingenuity I have shown with pyromancy.

"Much like pyromancy, _anyone_ can learn the soul sorceries. It requires a certain level of innate intelligence to understand the intricacies, but the reward for it are quite high. It is nowhere near as… linear as pyromancy, per se."

Glynda was _very_ interested as he cast another spell, this one turning his body transparent along with his armor. It was so effective, she had to squint briefly to see him. He came into focus thereafter, but she was already beyond impressed. If that was but a glimpse of what the so-called 'soul sorceries' could do, then she aspired to learn as much about it as she could.

For purely educational purposes, of course.

"This is all very impressive, Mr. Sibyl, but I can't help but wonder why you share it so freely. What reason do you have to trust me? For all you know, I could have you captured and _force_ you to teach us both these arts."

Glynda didn't even stop from palming her face. Why? What had she done to be surrounded by _this?_ Was having no tact _required_ to be male and part of their group? _Why_ did Ozpin have to make stupid threats like that? Why did Qrow have to try and get him drunk? Both actions implied they were just trying to use him, that he was some sort of tool to be discarded and no one except her seemed to _care_ about pretending to be professional-

Sibyl laughed, a hollow-sounding thing which was quite different from his earlier chuckles. It sounded far more ominous. "I'm not so arrogant to think I could take on the entirety of this school. I saw Qrow in action, and if he is any indication, you are all quite skilled.

"I even doubt I could take on the both of you and live. But I _would_ burn this school to the ground, myself and those in this room included."

Her shoulders tensed at the now so subtle threat, though it was hard to hold it against Sibyl after Ozpin had done so first.

"I'm inclined to believe you, Mr. Sibyl, but you didn't answer my question. _Why_ share?"

He tapped his fingers on the desk in front of him, closing his one good eye slowly as

he leaned forward. "I don't think you will be much help in personally getting me back to Lordran, but I believe you can enable me to do so myself."

He let his words settle, before continuing, "A soul sorcery, one beyond my comprehension, sent me here. If it has sent me, it has sent others, as that is how legends and myths are born. I simply need to find the correct information, and I can begin to try and engineer the spell myself. Perhaps it is even on a scroll somewhere."

"So, you wish for our help to pull up old legends? What will you offer in return?"

Glynda rolled her eyes. Ozpin pulled up old myths and legends for _fun,_ yet he made it sound like some monumental task. It was his _hobby._

Sibyl cleared his throat. "I offer to teach both pyromancy and soul sorcery, perhaps even some of the lightning miracles, in return for your help."

This deal was sounding _very_ one sided in their favor, indirectly letting them know despite how he tried to act, he was desperate. Far from home and completely alone...

She would be desperate too.

"Very generous," Ozpin commented, "but I get the feeling there's more?"

The young man nodded, "Yes. I will choose who I teach, perhaps with some recommendations from you or other members of the faculty. Pyromancy, in particular, can be a dangerous art if the student doesn't respect the flame."

A one-sided deal, indeed. It was rude to ask, but she was curious. "Why do you need to return home, if you don't mind my asking?"

He was silent for a few moments, staring at his own cupped hands. "Because I am chosen."

It was a vague answer, and apparently one he didn't want to reflect on for too long. "Right. I feel it prudent I show you my eye."

The cloth he had wrapped around it was slowly removed, and she felt her breath leave her lungs. There was no eye, nor even an empty socket. Instead there was a darkness, one which looked to have tried and spread further away from his eye in jagged lines. The darkness was far too reminiscent of the Grimm to be a mere coincidence, and she understood completely why Qrow had said they needed to look at it in his note.

"Before I was deposited here, I was battling the Abyss." A hand ran through his hair, tracking back in front and feeling the tainted, black-covered skin. The darkness moved almost as if alive when he touched it; her skin crawled just from looking at it. "As is often the case, it has… tainted me. I do not believe it will spread, nor do I intend to tap into the power it undoubtedly will tempt me with."

He stared at her with his good eye and… whatever that other eye was, before turning to do the same with Ozpin. "Should the infection spread and I fall to the Abyss, I only ask one thing: kill me without mercy, for I will surely show none to you. Can I get such a promise?"

She was hesitant to nod but did so regardless. It was sickening to imagine what precisely his infection _spreading_ would do; it didn't sound pleasant.

Killing him would likely be a mercy. It was a sad reality.

"You have our word."

He smiled, nodding in appreciation at a promise for them to _kill him_. "Then are we in agreement? I can provide details you may look for specifically, but truth be told, I am quite tired."

Ozpin raised a hand to stop him from retrieving his weapon from the wall and simply leaving. "You'll have to pose as a student here for this proposal." Sibyl raised no issues with it, so she took it as her cue to step forward. "I'll show you where you can drop off your equipment and prepare for bed."

* * *

Sibyl walked quietly and slowly, dressed in the gold-hemmed black robes which he had found on a stone table near the entrance of the Demon Ruins. Back then, he had sought to return them to Quelana; she had dismissed his offer heatedly. It had hurt upsetting his new teacher so quickly into their student-teacher relationship, but it was equally insightful. Given how comfortable the robes were, combined with the protection they offered against the heat, he opted to keep them for himself. He would have kept them even if he _never_ intended on wearing them, simply because he had a bottomless box. There was no point in _not_ keeping everything he came across.

They served quite splendidly as "normal" clothes, something to wear when dangers were gone, and he sought to relax. Given he was no longer inclined to try and impress, he had changed after Glynda showed him to some sort of storage room where he was expected to leave his equipment. After she had left, he had simply put it in his bottomless box. No one needed to know of its existence.

He had stayed tight-lipped about it back in Lordran, too.

Pausing, Sibyl scratched the back of his neck. It was his only complaint with the robe; the material could get quite itchy, and he was also somewhat too _large_ to fit into it. While the robe should be loose, it hugged his form more tightly than it was supposed to. Still, it was the best he had.

He scanned the large ballroom where everyone was to be sleeping. Some seemed to be already doing so, but most were still awake. It was very crowded; he hardly knew where to settle down. Glancing about, it wasn't hard to locate Yang and Ruby, given how _loud_ they were being. He crossed off the idea of settling in near them instantly. Perhaps he would have stayed with Weiss if he spotted her, but he couldn't be bothered to keep looking. They would all be asleep within the hour, regardless of where he went.

He found a solitary corner, with only one girl with striking crimson hair being there.

It would suffice.

Approaching, he lowered his hood, though it would be going back up soon enough to block the light. He just was trying to not frighten anyone by looking mysterious, especially with how secluded the girl seemed. It seemed his efforts were for naught, however, as she froze slightly as when he got closer.

Maybe it was his one eye? It certainly didn't make him look friendly…

"Might I settle beside you, Miss?"

A stiff nod was his reply, but it _was_ a reply.

Shrugging internally, he slid down the wall and into the crook of the corner. She gave him a few side-eyed glances as he pulled his hood back up, keeping it low to mostly cover his one good eye. He was correct in picking this corner, as the silence was quite nice. What _wasn't_ nice was being stared at. It had never sat well with him, always causing tenseness.

"If I'm making you uncomfortable, Miss, I can leave." It was hardly a bother to him, though this _was_ a nice corner.

"Oh, no! It's fine. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be rude."

He offered a small smile to ease her worries. "Think nothing of it. These are stressful times for all of us." An understatement at absolute best, doubly so in his situation. If Velka smiled upon him, Ozpin would be able to find the texts he needed. If not… well, he would cross such a bridge when the time came.

"Do… do you know who I am?" The girl asked, drawing him from his mind. It took a few moments for the question to register, and when it did, he blinked, head tilting slightly.

"I can't say I do, unfortunately. You'll have to forgive me."

Surprisingly, rather than looking affronted like Weiss did, she seemed… pleased? Gods, everyone here was so _strange._ Lady Goodwitch was the only person he had met who seemed even close to normal.

"No! It's fine – completely fine. I'm Pyrrha, Pyrrha Nikos," she introduced herself with a firm shake, and he made note of just _how_ firm it was. Yang's grip was similar, albeit with slightly more callused hands.

He was looking forward to seeing their weapons of choice later. "A pleasure, lady Nikos. I am Sibyl of Lordran."

"Lordran? I've never heard of it."

He sighed, resting his head back against the wall. "None do, and yet, it is the place I'm forced to call home."

She was silent when he finished, and it took him around seven seconds to realize it was not a peaceful silence, nor a reflective one. He had made her uncomfortable, it seemed. He'd have to resolve the issue, but how...

A change of subjects seemed best.

"You'll have to forgive my next actions if they're disturbing; it helps calm my nerves."

And indeed, this was as much for his sake as hers. He held up a hand, conjuring a free-flowing Chaos Flame. It had no purpose; he did not try to shape it into a great ball of fire, nor combust it suddenly. He simply watched as it flickered and wavered, constantly trying to grow larger and only kept in check by his control.

Regular flames did not present the same problem. They were far easier to control. Yet, he had come to appreciate the chaos, and he could still reach into the depths and pull out a regular fire if he so desired. The nature of chaos connected with him far more closely than the regular flame ever had.

As he stared at the flickering source of heat in front of him, he felt… heavy. The flame he held was the _only_ flame of its kind there was in these odd lands, his last connection to the First Flame of Lordran. Sure, he had his sorcery to connect him with the Land of the Gods, as well as his miracles, but he never felt as personally connected to them as he did the flame.

Sorcery was simply the art of casting spells; so long as he could understand the purpose, he could do it. Miracles were much the same, though revolving around a sort of blind faith which caused him to be unable to cast most of them. Pyromancy, however… pyromancy was special. With help, the flame itself had developed right alongside him. He had grown as it grew, their journey combined. It was as direct a parallel with his own skill as one could get.

"That's an amazing Semblance," Pyrrha commented, ending his internal musings. The redhead was watching the fire _live_ with mesmerized eyes.

He turned to her with a grin, "It is no Semblance, Lady Nikos. It is a long-forgotten art, one which I hope to rekindle."

Pyromancy was the _ultimate_ fantasy. He couldn't simply keep it to himself. It was not what Laurentius would have done, so it was not what he would do.

He stared at the flame in front of him for a few moments. "It would be selfish to keep the beauty of the flame to myself. It is in fire's nature to spread, no?"

She nodded, face skeptical but trying to keep up a pointless facade of politeness.

"Ah, I see. You think I'm mad."

Her cheeks lit up as red as his own flame's hue. "W-What? No, no! I just… I've never heard of anything like it that _wasn't_ a Semblance."

It was hard to fault her for being skeptical; it was hard to fault anyone from being skeptical. Despite that, it was still annoying, so his eyes rolled, though he wasn't _that_ irritated. "The only knowledge one can ever truly possess in this world, Lady Nikos, is the knowledge that we know nothing."

Very long ago, or so it felt like, he had thought _he_ knew something.

"I suppose that's true..." Pyrrha conceded, adjusting herself slightly within the odd bag she was laying in. "Anyone could learn to summon fire like that, then?"

He nodded. "It requires a particular mindset and respect, but yes, there is nothing which stops anyone from leaning it except themselves."

He slowly let the fire fade from his hand, watching as it diminished into nothing.

For reasons far beyond him, he had to blink away the wetness in his eyes. He wiped at it idly, praying Pyrrha didn't notice the motion… which of _course_ she did. "Sibyl? Are you alright?"

Not entirely sure what to say, he didn't say anything. It wasn't terribly helpful in defusing the situation, but it was what he did.

"Hey, there you are, Fireball!"

Perhaps he was imagining it, but Yang's voice seemed to have an almost angelic quality to it. Sibyl spared her a lazy glance as she _forcefully_ plopped down between himself and Pyrrha, unknowingly being _very_ helpful.

"Sheesh, you work fast. Two beauties in one day, eh!"

"Yang, could you try to make _some_ degree of sense?"

She waved off his question, introducing herself to Pyrrha. "Yo. Nice to meet 'ya, I'm Yang."

Pyrrha gave a hesitant handshake, combined with a tense smile. She was quite the social butterfly. "Hello, I'm Pyrrha Nikos. I take it you know Sibyl?"

The blond vixen wrapped a hand around his shoulder, pulling him close. "We're best pals! Mr. Serious here knows he can always rely on Mama Yang for anything he needs. _Anything,"_ she suggested with a wiggle of the eyebrows. The chosen undead rubbed his forehead in an attempt to relieve the headache which was rapidly forming.

People confused him.

"Where is Ruby?" He questioned, quick to change the subject.

Yang yawned, unraveling herself from him. " _Well,_ I left her with some quiet, book-reading girl. Was going to stick around, but then I saw you showing your hypnotizing flames to some other _innocent_ girl and had to step in."

Pyrrah's face was red again for some reason.

"How noble of you," he muttered.

"Yeah, I'm the best, aren't I?"

Sibyl stared across at Pyrrha, meeting her striking emerald eyes. "Quite humble, too."

The redhead stiffened a laugh as Yang gave him a light slugg on the arm, a gesture which took him back to his times with Solaire.

He smiled.


	4. Chosen Few

**_Hello again. Chapter four, ready to go. Chapter five will likely take longer for me to edit, as I'd like to adjust some things._** ** _Going to do a brief address of some things I saw expressed in reviews:_**

 ** _Sibyl becoming a student is something I spent some time deciding on. I don't like to explain things in the author's note, because if I have to explain it here that means it was not self-evident in the story itself, which means I'm doing a poor job of writing, eh? Ideally, you will come to understand why Ozpin chose him to pose as a student opposed to a teacher as the story progresses. Whether those reasons were valid, pointless, or his intent fails, it hardly matters. I just am trying to make sure things happen for a reason._**

 _ **Oh, and I would like to admit to a mistake. I forgot to make it more clear that Sibyl has lost his Estus flask. The only real mention is in chapter 1, after his encounter with Manus. Something along the lines of "he couldn't be bothered to find it" after it slipped from his shaky hands. Naturally, it didn't make the journey with him. I apologize for not making that more clear, and will try to do better in the future.**_

 _ **I'm very eager for this chapter and the next to be done, as I can then really get to the meat and bones of my own story. I'm genuinely excited for what I have in store, and I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, or favorited. I'll try not to disappoint!**_

 _ **Edit: Another thank you to**_ _ **ekaterina016 for beta'ing my story!**_

* * *

It was a tough choice, he'd readily admit. There was so much he didn't know about the initiation they were soon to be going through, and if there was one thing he hated, it was not having information. It was actually incredibly ironic how much he hated being left out of the loop considering for damn near his entire venture, he never had any information and everything was done more or less blindly.

He was given vague instructions, at best, and was expected to complete them through whatever means necessary. The undead liked to think he had gotten quite good at it.

While he had many questions on what to bring for the initiation, the most pressing issue was the lack of the Estus Flask which had sat at his hip for damn near his entire journey. It was a very odd feeling to not have it attached to his hip, one he had dealt with since his initial awakening. Not for the first time, he cursed his weakness after the Abyss tainted his eyes. If he had simply ignored the pain, he would have both his Titanite Slab-reinforced helmet and the lifeline to all undead: a flask full of Estus.

Still, he'd persevere without it. The second issue he was facing was hesitance on choosing a weapon. The indecisiveness was partly him simply wanting to show off to these children; the other part was him wanting to be as prepared as he could be. More so for the former, if he was to be honest, because he was certain he could make it through whatever initiation they threw at him with just his pyromancy. There was no fun in that, though, and as such he had taken up a good portion of the locker room, his many weapons and even a few shields scattered around. Those who passed by either sent him a raised eyebrow or muttered in annoyance. Both gestures were easily ignored.

His hand reached out to grasp the Black Bow of Pharis, but hovered just an inch off from the ranged weapon. Yes, it was a quality bow. Of the regular sized bows, none had quite the same firing distance as it had. While it traded that attribute with lesser stopping power, he wouldn't use a bow for anything except obscenely long distances.

It was a fine weapon, one of the best in his collection which had been received as a gift from that odd hunter of the Darkwood Forest. But he was fighting Grimm, _large_ creatures of the Abyss. It was why his eyes kept going back to Gough's Greatbow which sat up against the locker of whatever fool had been placed beside him. No bow was more well-crafted or as powerful as Gough's, even if it was unwieldy. It would rip apart the Grimm; of that, he was sure.

Logically, however, there was no reason for him to use it. His sorceries made bows unnecessary unless the range was truly unreachable, but he _really_ wanted to see how deep a great arrow would pierce into a Beowolf! It was a great mystery, and he had a theory it would lodge itself nearly all the way in... Then, he'd have to slice the beast open to retrieve it; that, or wait until the corpse dissipated.

The real problem was he could hardly afford to carry so many large, unruly weapons.

After much debate, he had decided to keep his Black Knight Greataxe, given how easily it ripped through the Grimm in their first encounters. Shields… He never paired a shield with anything except a regular sized sword or spear. The Crystal Ring Shield was a rare exception to that rule, as he used it with a few of his greatswords and axes.

…did he _really_ want to use his greataxe? He had been wielding it for a while, and it was beginning to get somewhat boring. He wanted a bit of a challenge! Perhaps the Black Knight Glaive would work for this occasion? He certainly wanted something _large_ ;Ornstein's Dragonslayer Spear, maybe? He was reaching for the glaive when a familiar voice sounded from behind him.

"…wow," Ruby breathed out, looking with wonder at his collection.

He spared a glance over his shoulder and couldn't help but smile, taking a step back to admire the pile of weapons he had removed from his box – subtly, of course. Though, now that they were all out... it wasn't as subtle as he thought. His smile faded, though he still commented to on his collection to Ruby. "Impressive, is it not?"

"Looks more like a mess to me," Yang added, clearly not as taken with his collection as her sister was.

He and Ruby scoffed in unison, the latter adding a glare. Good! His collection was impressively large, both in numbers _and_ quality, and he didn't much like someone insulting it. " _Yaang!_ This is amazing – he has so many weapons! Is that a scythe? I didn't know you used a scythe!"

Sibyl chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his head. "It is a scythe of somewhat shoddy design; I had to reinforce it to prevent the wood from splintering. I found it in some catacombs, discarded and abandoned, though the blade itself was in fine shape. I simply couldn't leave it."

Ruby nodded eagerly before rushing away in a _literal blur_ , leaving… petals of redin her wake? He barely had time to register what was happening when she returned, mouth spread in a wide smile and something in her hand which was unfolded as quickly as he could blink. "This is Crescent Rose!" The formerly block-like device transformed, revealing a scythe which was as large as the one Priscilla wielded.

Yet, that was all he could make sense of. Was such a weapon common? He could hardly imagine it in actual combat. Any weapon which transformed was inherently structurally unsound.

"A fine blade, but I question how well it will function in more… trying environments."

Ruby nodded sagely, setting the blade end on the ground and placing a hand on her hip accordingly. "I know, I know, it has too many parts – everyone says that. _But,_ I keep her maintained _perfectly,_ and it's not like I rigged the fold with just one or two old, shoddy joints-"

Before she could continue on in her explanation, Yang whistled. He had a theory it was to stop Ruby from babbling on about something he could only _just_ make sense of.

"You're sounding pretty eager this morning, Ruby."

The girl in question turned around, folding her scythe back into its more block-like form and hugging it closely. "Yep! No more awkward small-talk or getting to know you stuff. I get to let my baby do all the talking."

Sibyl nodded in agreement. "I, too, am itching for a good fight." He stared at the cloak-wearing girl for a few seconds. Well... if he was having trouble deciding on what weapon to wield, perhaps she could assist him. "Tell me, Ruby, should I use the glaive or the greataxe? Oh, and what of the bows? The black bow or wooden greatbow?"

The girl in question tiptoed closer, leaning in and scrutinizing his choices. " _Oooh,_ what about that one!" She pointed at the Moonlight Greatsword, the thick, idle emerald blade always catching eyes.

"Hmm. It _has_ been sometime since I've used it, and the enhanced abilities are rather eye catching..." Smiling, Sibyl set the weapon and aside from the rest of his collection. It _was_ one of his favorite choices, and he had not touched it since defeating the Sanctuary Guardian. "Wonderful. You have been of great assistance, young Rose."

" _Right,"_ Yang emphasized, ensnaring both their attentions. "Anyway, Ruby, not everyone is going to be as interested as Sibyl here about weapons."

He nodded in confirmation when Ruby looked at him hopefully. Only Shiva had ever been as passionate as he was about killing devices.

"If you're going to grow up, you'll have to get used to people who don't always like the same things as you," Yang explained, slowly.

Ruby rolled her eyes, scoffing lightly, "You sound like DDad. "First of all, this is a _combat_ school, Yang! Meeting new people has _nothing_ to do with fighting. Secondly, I don't need people to help me grow up. _I_ drink milk."

Sibyl saw nothing wrong in her logic initially, though what milk had to do with growing up was beyond him. He thought about adding his opinion but decided to keep his mouth shut and let the two sisters deal with their squabble. There was shaping up to be a mess he had to clean up…

"Well, what about when we form teams?"

He dropped the large archstone greathammer he had been carrying onto the ground, cracking the floor below. "T-Teams?" He mumbled, eye wide. They were going to have _teams?_ How large? Were they assigned or chosen? _He was going to have to have a team?!_ He worked best alone, only teaming up when he occasion was particularly ruthless! Even as a warrior of sunlight, it was come and go; they didn't _stay_ and function as some sort of group-

"…you alright over there, Fireball?"

He blinked, thoughts momentarily cleared. Shaking his head, he leaned down to pick up the great hammer he had carelessly dropped. "Perfectly fine. Please, continue."

"Okay,"was Yang's reply.

Excellent, he had managed to play that off properly. She would barrage him with no awkward questions.

"I don't know; can't _we_ just team up?" Ruby stuttered out, rubbing her hand.

He stopped paying attention then, going back into the depths of his mind which wouldn't stop panicking. Teams… who would he team up with? Weiss came to mind as a fine choice; she didn't seem to be a large irritant. There was also the redhead, Pyrrha, who had been pleasant to speak with. He spared Yang a glance as she continued to argue with Ruby about teams. She would likely find a way on his team regardless…

How large were the teams? Anything over four seemed excessive, but he hardly knew what to expect. It could be threes, or twos… no, if it was pairs, they would have simply said a partner. So at least over two… on the rare occasions he had called two phantoms to assist him with a demon or god, they formed a healthy group of three.

Well, that didn't seem too bad, now that he thought about it. Ideally, it'd be Pyrrha, himself, and Weiss, but it was more likely Yang would force her way onto his team. Regardless, either setup would work for him. Of course, he'd need to see how they fought to have a better idea of how they complimented each other, but he took pride in his adaptability.

There were other dynamics to a team, weren't there? He was so used to simply slaying something and going on his way; they never stayed together for long. How would he fit in with these people he had _nothing_ in common with? What could they bond over? Perhaps sharing stories, though they might not have any particularly good ones…

Thoughts for another time. His weapons and armor were secured and put away quickly, and he was eternally grateful for his bottomless box's magic. Should he leave his box _in_ the locker? It seemed the most efficient way to go about it, but he was so used to having it at his side, shrunk down in the form of a pouch. It was a good thing the lockers were so large; he had turned his box on its side to avoid suspicion and enlarged it.

Deciding to leave it and not second-guess himself, he shut the locker, took a deep breath and walked off, leaving Ruby and Yang to continue their argument.

He had changed out of his Astoran Elite Knight Armor, instead deciding to favor the improved mobility the Hard Leather Set had to offer, complete with a steel helmet which offered better visibility than a more classical knight's helm. Given his one eye, he felt any visor was out of the question until he was suitably used to the limitation.

Right. If he was going to attempt and team up with Pyrrha and Weiss, he ought to get _their_ feelings on the situation. It was rude to simply assume they'd join. In fact, he wasn't sure they would want to be on his team at all and was expecting to be politely laughed off. No, no, he had to be confident! It was embarrassing for a Sunlight Warrior to be behaving like a self-doubting child.

He felt his ears perk up upon hearing Weiss's voice, and made to her location immediately. They _had_ to discuss teams.

As luck would have it, Weiss was already with Pyrrha; Velka smiled upon him for once. He cleared his throat to get both of their attentions. "Ah, Lady Pyrrha, Weiss, just the pair I was looking for!"

Pyrrha offered him a radiant smile, waving happily. "Hello, again!"

Weiss was more subdued, but she did greet him with a nod, "Sibyl."

"A pleasure, once more. I come here with a request," he began, closing his good eye and taking a deep breath. Just offer them a spot on the team. It was that simple. "I am… err…"

Damn! How did he even begin to explain? "I am not well versed with people, and the prospect of teams has me hesitant. I hardly know how I'd even begin to fit into such a group socially, though I am a more-than-ready combatant. The two of you were pleasant to converse with, however brief it may have been, and…"

His free hand came up to scratch at the back of his neck as he stumbled through his explanation. "It's just, uh… oh, Gwyn damn it all. I was hoping one, or even the both of you, would be willing to form a team!" There! That hadn't been so hard, had it? Even if he made a complete and utter fool of himself, he had managed to give them his offer.

Fortunately, Weiss did not wait long to respond. She smirked, crossing her arms. "Well, you've got great-

"That sounds grand!" Pyrrha interrupted, seemingly as eager as he was!

Weiss nodded in agreement with the redhead's words, and relief flooded him.

"Wonderful. That is quite the load off of my back, let me assure you. I'm… well, I'm actually rather looking forward to the teams. I've never been in any sort of extended, constant group like how these are sounding."

The prospect of teams continued to grow more pleasant as he thought about them. It would be like conversing with Solaire and Siegemeyer, constantly! It could have an almost family feel to it; stories could be shared, jokes made… Yes, he was looking forward to it, indeed. Everyone had always been too busy with their own problems in Lordran to stay together, but here was different in that regard. Ideally, a team would help make his stay here until his return to Lordran far more enjoyable.

"Great!" Weiss commented, rubbing her hands together and getting a look on her face which he had trouble placing at first, but then it hit him. It was reminiscent of Patches when he tried to explain one of his great schemes. She stayed like that for a few moments, interrupted by only one thing.

"You know what else is great? Me, Jaune Arc. Nice to meet you."

He was about as intimidating as a pillow, with blonde hair and blue eyes. The boy at least seemed to have some sense about him, wearing plated armor on his chest and elsewhere. It wasn't as if he had enough flesh to protect him.

"Not again," Weiss muttered.

They had met? Not a good meeting, if the look the white-haired heiress had was any indication. Pyrrha tried to introduce herself but was promptly ignored by the blonde boy. How rude, to simply blow off a lady like that. Perhaps he needed a lesson in proper manners? He had been similar until encountering Rhea.

"Yeah, yeah," he waved Pyrrha off, moving closer to an unamused Weiss who avoided eye-contact. Jaune was a persistent fellow, however, and paid no mind to the social cue. "So, Weiss! Couldn't help but overhear your fondness of me the other day."

Sibyl stiffened a laugh as the boy flexed his muscles – or attempted to, anyways. There was hardly anything to flex. He and a hollow had that in common.

"…you've _got_ to be kidding me." Weiss palmed her face, beyond frustrated.

The knight hardly blamed her.

"Hey, there's no need to be embarrassed," Jaune assured, hardly stopping to breathe as he continued, "Been hearin' rumors about teams! I was thinking you and me would make a good one. Whadda ya' say?"

"Actually," Pyrrha began, interjecting herself smoothly into the conversation, "I think the teams are comprised of four students each, and we had already-"

"You don't say. Well, hot-stuff, play your cards right and maybe you could join up with the _winning_ team."

Sibyl opened his mouth to tell the boy to go eat sludge, but Weiss was a step ahead of him. "Jaune, is it? Do you have any idea who you are talking to?"

"Not in the slightest, Snow Angel."

What an awful title! There was no originality, nothing which made it stand out. It was nothing like Big Hat Logan or even _the_ Iron Tarkus.

"This is Pyrrha," Weiss continued, "she graduated top of her class at Sanctum."

Sibyl blinked. What was Sanctum? Another academy similar to this one?

"Isn't that a church?" Jaune commented, showing around the same understanding Sibyl had.

"She won the Mistral Regional Tournament four years in a row – a new record." Weiss paused, leaning in closer to the boy. "You _do_ know what that is, right?"

Jaune laughed nervously, "What? Of course I know what it is – who doesn't know what the Mistral Regional Tournament is!"

He continued laughing as Weiss stared at him expectantly. "You have no idea what it is, do you?

Jaune nodded sadly. Sibyl coughed lightly. "I… uh, have never heard of these tournaments either, nor of Sanctum."

"See," the blonde explained, "this is _hard_ trivia! Only super pretty and intelligent girls like yourself know it!"

Weiss was beginning to get a bit red with anger, though whether it was at his ignorance or Jaune's words, he did not know. "Gah! She's on the front of every Pumpkin Pete's Marshmallow Flakes box!"

Jaune gasped, hands moving to cover his face. "That was _you_?!"

Pyrrha blushed, keeping her eyes glued to the ground.

"What is a Marshmallow Flakes and who is Pete?" Sibly questioned, _tired_ of being left out of the loop. It happened _constantly,_ even before he came to this damned land.

The blonde flirt turned to face him, pity and confusion visible on his face. "Wow, how could you not know that?"

Sibyl shrugged, a little uncomfortable with the comment. Who cared if he didn't know these things? He was in an entirely new world! It was completely alright. "My life has consisted of combat and survival. Anything outside of it is a mystery, really." The group 'ooh'dsilently, staring at him for a few moments longer than what was comfortable. "Regardless of my inadequacies, I am eager to learn."

Weiss nodded. "And _that_ is the difference between Sibyl, a respectable, if ignorant hunter in training, and _you."_

Well, he would take what compliments he could get.

"Now, after _everything_ you've just learned, do you really think _you_ should be the one inviting Pyrrha to join _your_ team?" Weiss questioned, narrowing her eyes.

"…actually, I think Jaune would make a fine leader."

The undead blinked. Where was the logic in Pyrrha's words? Nothing the blonde had done showed him to be inclined as a leader.

"Pyrrha, please! This kind of behavior should not be encouraged-"

"Sounds like Pyrrha's on board for Team Jaune. Now, I'm not supposed to do this, but maybe I could pull some strings, find a place for you. What do you say?"

Sibyl decided this interaction had gone on long enough, reaching at his waist and grabbing the Sunlight Talisman which rested there.

"Alright, that's a bit too close… Sibyl, a little help please!"

And indeed, the blonde was pushy at best. Muttering the cadence under his breath for Emit Force, the visible bubble of white energy formed in front of him. He lightened the offensive potential, not wanting to kill the lad, but just knock him away.

It worked splendidly as Jaune found himself thrown against the far wall. Sibyl sniffed, sneering lightly. "He really ought to learn how to treat a lady."

Pyrrha was silent in the wake of his words, staring at the boy now on the far end of the room. "I don't think he was that bad, really..."

"Perhaps not to you, but he refused to respect Lady Weiss's declines of his advances."

The heiress nodded. "I came here hoping to _avoid_ that sort of treatment…" Weiss muttered, eyes trailing to the ground.

Sibyl moved to step beside her. "Not to worry. Should our team come to fruition, I can keep such pests away." He smirked, winking his one good eye. "I can be quite intimidating."

Before anything more could be said, a voice echoed around the locker room. "Would all first-year students please report to Beacon Cliff for initiation."

Ah, yes. It was time.

* * *

Well, whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this. They stood, not _many_ of them, mind you, but they stood together at a cliff side, overlooking a great, green forest which was as wide and as far as any he had seen. Each of them had been instructed to stand on some sort of platform, and he was expecting them to do _something_ unpleasant. They always did.

Based on the fact they were on a cliff-face and overlooking an emerald sea of leaves, he could only assume it would be an exhilarating flight. It was also insane, much like everything else about this place, and he could hardly fathom how most of these children would land. He at least had his sorcery to handle the drop, though it would need to be mitigated further. Stepping from the top branches seemed the easiest way to do so, as his armor would protect most of him from cuts and scrapes.

"For years, you have trained to become warriors," Ozpin began, and he nearly scoffed at the assuming words. He couldn't remember training for _anything,_ simply waking up in a cell with less than a broken blade. No, really, less than a broken blade: it was just the damn hilt of the longsword, maybe three inches of a blade left. Things had developed quickly from there as the ability to absorb souls offered many benefits, none the least of which being an innate understanding of weapons. His training had been experience, not _all_ his own.

"And today, your abilities will be evaluated in the Emerald Forest."

 _That_ much was true, at least. Glynda stepped forward, ensnaring their attention. "Now, there have been many rumors about the assignment of teams. Allow us to put an end to your confusion: each of you will be given teammates, today."

"These teammates will be with you for the rest of your time at Beacon," Ozpin explained, "so it is in your best interest to be paired with someone with whom you can work well."

Of course, of course, but how were they supposed to _know_ who they would work well with? There might as well have just been a randomized system with all the information they had to work with for picking teammates!

It all seemed to be based on nothing but chance, much like his bumping into Weiss and Pyrrha.

"That being said, the first person you make eye contact with after landing will be your partner for the next four years."

There was utter silence, and the undead _swore_ he could hear Ruby's reality shatter. Everyone seemed to actually think Ozpin was being serious! Sibyl laughed, drawing the attention of all his fellow students. "A fine joke, Headmaster. I almost believed you to be serious."

Glynda coughed lightly. "…he is completely serious, Mr. Sibyl."

Oh. _Oh._ It hadn't been a joke, then. The entire system _was_ random, based around Velka-damned luck. His own luck had always been _awful_. "Right," the undead mumbled, resisting the urge to cast a damn Chaos Pyromancy at Ozpin's smug, impassive face. Gah! Was this not an academy of learning? Who would come up with such a chaotic system?!

"As I was saying: after you've partnered up, make your way to the northern end of the forest. There you will find an abandoned temple, and within, several artifacts. Each pair much choose one and return to this cliff side. You will undoubtedly meet opposition along the way; do not hesitate to destroy them, or you will die."

"Nothing new, then," he whispered to himself, too irritated about how they were going to be drawing partners to keep his thoughts internal. It made no sense! The moon being shattered made _more_ sense than how they were going to be picking partners. He could only assume Ozpin was beyond the method. Hopefully, the headmaster had a more... reliable way to pull up old legends. Sibyl wouldn't hesitate to leave and seek someone new for assistance in returning to Lordran if he had to.

"You will be evaluated for your performance, but we instructors will not intervene. After you have returned, we will regard that item, evaluate your performance, and grade appropriately."

It was an easy enough task, a simple fetch and return. He had done similar tasks many times.

"Any questions?" Ozpin asked, his speech finished. Sibyl could feel his hairs begin to stand in excitement. All the standing around and just _talking_ had been a complete bore. Perhaps he had just gotten too used to the violent life Lordran encouraged, but… well, it was all he knew.

"Uh, yes, Sir-" Jaune _tried_ to interrupt with a question, but Ozpin ignored him thoroughly. "Good. Now take your positions."

As everyone around him braced for impact, Sibly reached down and retrieved his Oolacile Catalyst. As the first person far to his left was _launched_ through the air, he reckoned he had guessed correctly on the purpose of their platforms. A quick cast of Fall Control would make this venture a breeze, and perhaps he would even pair it with Iron Flesh… yes, that sounded like a fine idea. The branches would break easily enough, and he could still use their impact to slow his descent.

"Hmm. Another sorcery, Mr. Sibyl?" Glynda questioned as those besides him were sent upwards into the sky.

"Yes. Fall Control. I imagine you can guess its purpose?"

She hummed, glancing down and noticing his boots seemed to have a glow around them. With a push up of her glasses, she inclined her head lightly. "That I can."

Cracking his neck, he took a deep breath. A moment later, the undead found himself airborne, the wind slapping against his exposed face and eye. It was actually quite difficult to see, but he managed to focus through the whipping air. The sea of green was rapidly approaching, so it was time to implement stage two of his landing strategy.

Channeling his pyromancy, he placed his palm above his heart. His flesh, though covered by his armor, was undoubtedly now colored in the grey sheen of iron. His leather armor was not affected by the cast, though anything trying to get through both his heavily reinforced armor _and_ his reinforced flesh would find it pointless to even try. The hard leather would take some scratches during the fall, but it was nothing his sorcery could not repair later.

With his weight increased, he began to drop rapidly, descending through the leaves as the branches they were attached to broke under his mass. He hardly even felt the impact, though it did shift his trajectory somewhat. Still angled, though not as heavily, he braced his knees for the impact of the ground.

As his feet hit the ground, he stumbled, falling forward and face skidding along the dirt. It didn't hurt as much as it should have thanks to his casting of Iron Flesh, but _it did sting._ Staying on the ground for a few moments, he finally let go of the death grip he had on his Moonlight Greatsword.

Quite the successful landing. Now, it was time to find a partner and soon thereafter, the artifacts.

* * *

Pyrrha stared from her position on a large branch as the other students went flying into the horizon, a few disappearing below the leaves and into the woods below. She was focused on two in particular, however: Sibyl and Jaune. The former seemed to have things in order, crashing through the top of the tree coverage without looking very worried about it from her point of view. That armor of his ought to help protect from the branches, and she wouldn't be surprised to learn if he just brute-forced his way to the forest floor.

He was… interesting, if a bit strange. Nothing about him _made sense._ While she was _very_ curious about his eye, Pyrrha was hesitant to ask how someone so young got such a brutal scar. She knew it better to hold her tongue and let her curiosity run rampant than risk offending him. They had only just met, after all, and she could only imagine how sensitive he might be over it. And really, that eye was one of the more uninteresting things about him!

She had spotted his… uh, _collection_ of weapons, about as wide a variety as she had ever seen: spears, glaives, greatswords, multiple shields, and even some obscenely large hammers. It was all very overwhelming to look at, and she couldn't exactly figure out why he refused to use just _one_ in particular. In addition to that, he had something which looked an awful lot like a Semblance which he claimed to _not_ be a Semblance. She wasn't entirely sure how true that was, but it was interesting, regardless. If it was true, the implications were _amazing._

And, maybe best of all, he didn't know anything about her except what she _showed_ or told him about. It was refreshing to not be stared at expectantly, or to have someone constantly bringing up her accomplishments as if those were the most important things about her. He had approached her in the corner of the ballroom not because he was a fan, but because he just wanted somewhere to lay down.

So far, coming to Beacon had been everything she dreamed of and more. If she could just secure him as a partner, it would be _perfect._

…of course, there was also Jaune. He seemed charming in his own way, and didn't know who she was, either. Pyrrha would secure _one_ of them as a partner, the question was just which one. Squinting into the distance, she managed to spot Jaune flying through the air in an… uncoordinated manner, limbs flailing.

It seemed her decision had been made. Besides, they were going to be comprised in teams of four. She just needed to make sure Sibyl ended up on her team too and things would be perfect. Everything would be perfect.

Taking aim with her javelin, she tossed it with all her might, guiding it along with her Semblance. She heard the 'clink'of it entering the woods even from this distance, and a shout back of _"Thank you!"_ let her know she'd hit her mark.

"I'm sorry!" She called over the vast forest, taking a deep breath afterwards. It was time to go retrieve Jaune.

* * *

Ruby was in a hurry with good reason. She _had_ to start her search for a partner early, because _whoever she first found would be her partner for the next four years!_ The longer she waited to find someone, the more people would be taken as partners. _Every_ second she failed to find someone was another second she could be left completely alone _without_ a partner! _That_ was why she was hurrying as fast as she was through the forest, trees blurring alongside her.

She couldn't just get stuck with some random person she'd never met before as a partner. either. She hardly had anything in common with people already!

It meant she had to think about who she wanted as a partner. It had to be Yang, didn't it? Yang would be looking for her too; they were sisters! They _had_ to be on the same team, because family stuck together. That was what Dad said, anyways. Yang was the clear number one choice as a partner, but what if someone else found Yang before she did?! Who else could she partner with? The list was _very_ short.

There was Jaune, but… well, his nickname was 'Vomit Boy' _,_ and he didn't seem like he'd do anything other than get eaten against Grimm in a fight. So, no, Jaune wasn't an option, even if he was nice. They could still be friends, though! There was nothing stopping them from being friends, she just _really_ didn't want _him_ as a partner. She liked living, and he'd probably make that harder.

Blake was an option too, the quiet girl who liked books whom she'd met last night. She seemed nice, if a bit negative. Things had gotten awkward with her after Yang left, though… who else could she partner with?

 _Sibyl._ She could partner with Sibyl! They both loved weapons, and he had such an _awesome_ collection of them! She had a feeling what she'd seen wasn't even all of them. How did he carry around all of them, anyways? There had been more than a dozen of them, and most didn't _look_ like they folded or compacted. All the more reason to have him as a partner, she could learn all about it!

Plus, if Sibyl had so many weapons and scars, he _had_ to be some sort of Grimm-killing superhero. He definitely looked heroic with his armor, though not so much now that he was wearing the leather set. Well, it was still kinda heroic looking, but a sort of rugged hero like in her comic books.

Man, she could already picture the two of them as partners. Him, with his cool emerald sword, and her wielding Crescent Rose. They'd be back to back, surrounded by Grimm. She'd say some cool one-liner, like _'This is looking Grimm,'_ then he'd nod silently, and they would-

Ruby skidded to a stop, nearly falling forward. There was some white thing in front of her, and she'd nearly just ran straight into it…

Oh. _Oooh._ What she saw as a white blur was in fact Weiss, and before she had managed to register it _was_ Weiss, silver eyes had already met blue ones. The clearing was silent as they stared at each other.

…well, at least she'd be able to make up for nearly killing both of them in a dust explosion? _Or not,_ as Weiss turned completely away from her and walked off through the brush.

"H-Hey! We made eye contact," Ruby muttered, kicking the dirt beneath. Was she really so annoying that Weiss would just completely ignore the rules? Maybe she was just some stupid kid who lucked into Beacon. Everyone else was so different, so seemingly prepared and she was just-

"By no means does this make us friends," Weiss declared, grabbing her by the back of her hood and dragging her off to _somewhere._

Ruby couldn't stop herself; she cheered. "I knew you'd come back!"

* * *

So, Yang had a partner. It wasn't Fireball, who she'd been hoping to find as a partner, but the whole 'first person you make eye-contact with' thing had ruined that plan before it could even hope to start. Instead, her partner was the Blake girl she had left Ruby with the night before. The good news was Blake seemed nice, if a bit quiet. It was fine. Yang would break her out of her shell. It was just a matter of time, and seeing as how they had to spend the next four years at Beacon together, they'd have a _lot_ of time together.

There was still hope, anyways. Sure, she and Fireball weren't partners, but teams were comprised of four people, so she just had to hope Ruby had been a smart little sister and sought out Sibyl. That would be an amazing team…

Until then, though, she'd be making do. "How about a cute little pony?" Yang asked, holding up the golden chess she'd picked up, and she _did_ know it was a chess piece. Just not the _name_ of the chess piece, so 'pony' would do.

Blake rolled her eyes, but Yang noticed the quirk of her lips up into a smirk. Progress! "Sure."

"Guess I'll hang onto it." Not that she really had a good place to put it… eh, she'd figure it out. "That wasn't so bad." They'd encountered _one_ group of Grimm, and she'd more or less taken them out on her own.

"Well, it's not like this place was difficult to find," Blake commented.

Yeah, for an initiation, she wasn't really feeling it was all that difficult.

As a decidedly feminine-like scream sounded, maybe it _was_ difficult, and they were just that good?

"Some girl's in trouble… What should we do?" They couldn't just _leave_ another student alone if they were in trouble, right? That went against everything they were trained to do as Hunters and might even blemish their grades. Still, she and Blake had to decide what to do together, and Blake wasn't even paying attention. Gah! "Blake, I said-"

Blake pointed upwards, and as Yang looked towards the sky, the screaming from above registered to Yang's ears.

" _Heads up!"_

Wait… that was Ruby's voice! Squinting, Yang's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at the sight of Ruby _free falling through the damn sky!_ Her blonde hair flowed freely as she rushed forward, sliding along the ground to where her sister was going to be landing.

" _Ruby!"_ She screamed, " _I got you!"_ Arms held open, she tried to track her sister as she fell closer and closer to the hard stone beneath them… _aaannnddd then she was gone._ Yang blinked, turning to look at where Ruby had gone flying through the trees. Something had slammed into her, but it had happened way too fast for her to track.

Yang prepared to go check on her, _then_ she heard a rustling from the woods. Glancing back, she readied to kill the stupid that Ursa which entered the clearing, but then it fell forward, dead. Oh, and some _girl_ with orange hair flew off the top of it, landing with a roll. She'd… she'd been riding it?

"Aww, it's broken…"

Yup. She'd definitely been riding on it.

 _Who the hell rode on an Ursa!_

Some boy followed right along behind her, panting as he held his knees. "Nora… _never_ do that again."

The Nora girl was already gone, a golden chess piece which… uh, looked like a tower in her hand. Yang _needed_ to figure out what the hell chess pieces were actually called. "See, Ren, I told you riding that Ursa would make us get here _way_ faster _! Ooh, and look!_ I got the castle! Bow before your Queen!" Nora shouted, holding up her piece and prancing around happily. Yang blinked as the orange-haired girl sauntered over towards Ren when the boy called.

"…did that girl just ride in on an Ursa?" Blake questioned, just as confused as Yang was.

The blonde brawler opened her mouth to respond, and as she did so, _something else happened!_ A damn Deathstalker entered the clearing, chasing Pyrrha, and was that Sibyl? Huh. Good for Fireball, getting paired up with a cute girl like that. She squinted as she realized something _else_ other than the Death Stalker was also after him, flying above. It was hard to see, though, because the sun was right behind it.

She was kept watching as Sibyl did _something_ with a white branch in his hand, little teal balls forming around his head. That was new… it definitely didn't look like his pyromancies. It was hard to tear her eyes away from the sight, but the sound of her lovely little sister landing next to them was one of the few things which would ever tear her attention away. "Ruby!" Yang spoke, drawing her dazed sister's attention.

Ruby looked positively relieved at seeing her, smiling wide, "Yang!"

" _NORA!"_ The orange-haired psycho said, popping up between the two of them and stopping whatever idea of embrace they had. Yang was a bit miffed about that, actually. She'd been _so_ worried about Ruby, and now when they were finally about to embrace, she interrupted it!

"Did he just run all this way with a-"

Before Blake could even finish her question, Yang exploded, hair alit and eyes burning like a fire.

"That's it! Would everyone chill out for _two seconds_ before something crazy happens again?!"

Everyone was still for _precisely_ two seconds before Ruby coughed, pointing upwards politely. Sighing, Yang forced herself to look up, and wouldn't you know it, _Weiss had jumped off the talon of a freaking Nevermore!_

As Jaune leapt from a tree branch (when the hell had he even got there?), catching the falling heiress, Yang reached a conclusion.

Initiation wasn't as easy as she had thought it was.

* * *

 _Some Time Earlier:_

Leaning back and ducking beneath a claw, Sibyl swung sideways, the emerald, magical blade he wielded cutting through the Beowolf which had saw fit to attack him with absolute ease. A quick follow-up slash upwards into the neck of the beast had it collapsing to the ground, dead along with the two others which had attacked him.

Really, he had been getting attacked constantly! Since his landing, he had captured the attention of three groups of Grimm. Two of them had been the Beowolf subspecies he had encountered upon entering this world, while the other group he had been unable to place, the Abyss-covered thing looking vaguely bear-like.

Taking a moment to pause and _think,_ Sibyl took a glance back at the cliff side they had been thrown from. He was still heading in the right direction… probably. Directions had never been his forte, though his lack of them never caused any real issues. Lordran, while a big place, was hard to get lost in without gaining something of value in _getting_ lost. A wrong turn could take you to corners unexplored, which offered wondrous secrets of their own. The plight of the undead had been going on for centuries, so he never felt _too_ rushed as to avoid exploring all Lordran had to offer. That was what had led him here, indirectly. A simple trip to the Darkwood Basin and he was in the ancient city of Oolacile. One encounter with Manus later, he now lived beneath a different moon.

Life could be rather surprising like that.

Adjusting the sword against his shoulder to lay it more comfortably, he continued on through the greenery. His eye was beginning to get more and more irritated, and he had a few theories on why, the most prominent being these creatures of the Abyss were agitating it. Every time he stared at one, it just... hurt. The idea the beasts themselves were behind it made enough sense, though he was far from an expert on the Abyss.

Then again, was _anyone_ an expert on the Abyss? He might be the closest they had, which was rather sad. It just showed how much they were bumbling around in the dark, pardon the pun, with regards to the Abyss. Not like it'd be easy to get someone to _want_ to be an expert on the Abyss, anyways.

All he needed to know about the Abyss was it could never be allowed to spread, and in that respect, he would do all he could to stop it. Though this land might have been far beyond the point of him being able to kill the source and stop the spread, he could still assist by teaching them pyromancy and sorcery.

Every manner of weapon needed to be used to combat the Abyss-

Sibyl heard something. A rustling of the leaves above thanks to a strong breeze some might have written it off as, but not him. It was better to be paranoid than crushed, after all. He did not hesitate to leap aside, and as he did so, a large, black griffon-like Grimm landed with a smash where he'd been standing, sending dirt up everywhere and roaring. He eyed the creature steadily, noticing the spikes attached to its tail and the white, bone-like claws it had. Its head was armored with the white mask as well, much like the other Grimm he had encountered.

It was large, but nowhere near the largest beast he had ever encountered, nor was it very intimidating. It seemed to have limited offensive capabilities from a glance, though if it could breathe fire, he might rescind that statement.

Sibyl slid his foot back as the creature growled, readying his blade for whatever it might do. The two circled slowly, each waiting for the other to make the first move. The undead obliged, never being an overly patient individual; charging forward, he channeled the energy within his sword and swung it horizontally, an arc of energy firing out and slamming against the beast's head.

It exploded on impact, the energy expanding outwards and undoubtedly causing devastating damage. Sibyl squinted through the dissipating energy, trying to see if he had managed to crack the-

Scrambling, the knight managed to _just_ avoid the claw from cutting across his side, retaliating with a fast swing at the griffon's ankle which it dodged with a quick step back. He managed to get his sword in a defensive position just as the spiked tail of the beast tried to impale him; it failed to get through the peculiar metal of his Moonlight Greatsword, carved out from the innards of Seathe's tail. He had learned not to question _why_ dragon's tails seemed to be a treasure cove for unique weapons, just that they were

He pushed against the tail, trying to slice at it but missing. It turned around and instantly began pecking at him with its beak, aiming for his wrists. He twisted to avoid the attack, creating distance with a wide sweeping attack which had the beast rearing back. If it had sought to disarm him with those pecks, it seemed to have plenty of combat experience. Rather intelligent, especially compared to the beasts he had fought before.

Keeping his blade low, he stepped aside from a swipe of a claw and swung upwards, rapidly bringing the blade down thereafter. It cut across the chest of the Abyssal griffon, and Sibyl prepared to charge his blade for a devastating finish to his combo against the dazed beast-

But the beast simply _ran_ forward, slamming into him with its head and sending him flying back. His body bounced briefly, though he managed to use his blade to stabilize himself and get back to his feet as the creature- _Where was it?_

The shadow above told him what he needed to know. Rushing forward, he fell to the ground as it impacted just behind him, a _much_ better outcome than the alternative. Not wanting to give up the opportunity for an easy attack, he scrambled to his feet, summoning a Great Chaos Fireball with his free hand.

He threw as the beast turned around, the pyromancy impacting directlyagainst its head, and the lava which would often form with his spells began burning through its white mask…

Or not. The mask was left rendered grey and given a single fracture line, but it was not broken as the chaos lava dissipated into the air. Another few swings would likely finish the job.

Sibyl cursed as something roared behind him. A glance showed it to be one of those odd Abyssal bears, though more heavily armored and simply _bigger_ than the ones he had encountered earlier. These were _not_ good odds for him, especially with how they were positioned both in front and behind him. He needed to get somewhere more open, preferably a wide clearing, as opposed to the crowded floor of the forest.

Channeling pyromancy internally, he blew from his mouth, and purple mist came out to shroud the area. Ideally, the beasts would run through it and become poisoned, but given the cautious looks they gave, he doubted it. Still, the shroud of purple toxin gave him an opportunity to runas fast as he could.

Right. Find an open space, _then_ he could deal with the two beasts who wanted to rend the flesh clean from his bone, before swallowing the two anatomical parts whole.

As he sprinted through the foliage, he could hear the roars of rage from behind him. The griffon was what had him more concerned; it could catch even him by surprise, just by virtue of being a flying creature. They were always difficult to deal with. If only he had brought Gough's Greatbow, he might have been able to ground it, though if seen in a more positivelight, at least it couldn't breathe fire in addition to its ability to fly.

He spared a glance behind and blinked at the sight of the griffon tearing out the throat of the bear-like Grimm. He had expected them to work together in all honesty, but it seemed not. Well, that was fortunate for him. Turning back ahead as the flying Grimm discarded the corpse it had created, Sibyl kept sprinting.

Trees were being knocked down in their pursuit of him, it seemed, though why the griffon would do that when it could simply fly was beyond him. Hurdling over a long-since fallen log, he spared a glance over his right shoulder in case it had closed the distance-

"Pyrrha?" He muttered, confused. She waved lightly, not stopping in her own escape. Why was Pyrrha here, and what was _she_ running from?

His question was answered a moment later when something _else_ crashed through the trees. He nearly fell forward in surprise but caught himself. The thing which was following Pyrrha was… well, for lack of a better term, it was a giant Abyssal-scorpion, with a glowing yellow stinger which looked _very_ dangerous.

Wonderful.

The both of them cleared the final sections of the woods, moving out into a wide, grass-filled clearing. Perfect! Sibyl was left running for a few moments as he couldn't find the Griffon, eventually taking a hard turn and splitting off from the beast which was chasing Pyrrha. He needed to prepare for the Griffon's approach, as it was surely high in the sky and waiting to swoop in on him. Crouching forward as he continued to run, he grabbed the catalyst tucked into his boot with his left hand, the Moonlight Greatsword still held in his other one.

Casting Homing Crystal Soulmass while sprinting wasn't too difficult, and as six teal crystal formed above him, he prepared to kill the damn Griffon which saw fit to try and use him as a meal. The homing crystals only ever went where his eyes commanded them, thus so long as he didn't look back until he was ready to annihilate the creature which chased him, things would be fine. All he had to do was wait for it to attack, and as a shadow passed overhead, it was time.

Jumping forward with a roll, he turned his face around as he uncurled, catalyst already raised, his mind focusing the soul energies into form. The Griffon was charging downward at him as the Crystal Soulspear was cast. It was a rather beautiful sight, the Soulspear flying forward while the Homing Crystal Soulmass encircled it, moving forward to meet at the point of the Griffon's mask.

The explosion was a breathtaking sight, and he rather doubted the Griffon survived _that._

 _Oh._ The body of the creature was still coming at him, wasn't it? Perhaps he hadn't thought this entirely through. Bracing for impact, he was still crushed under the weight of the beast, only managing to lighten the blow by pushing off its underside and sending it forward. It still hurt something _awful,_ but at least he survived with only a bruised _everywhere._

To his utter surprise, the beast was alive, if in awful shape. Its mask was fractured everywhere _,_ and in fact the upper right corner had fallen off completely. The body of the beast was in terrible condition, and he could see a visible limp on its front right paw. Another blow would likely finish the beast, though he noticed it crouched and looked skywards, the tale-tell signs of a flying beast attempting to take to the skies.

He would not allow it to flee. Preparing a regular Soul Spear, he looked forward to watching it drop from the sky like a stone-

"Behind you!" Pyrrha's voice shouted a moment too late.

Sibyl screamed in pain as something snapped on both sides of him, picking him up and swinging him around. He slammed his sword forward in some vague attempt to _stop it,_ seemingly managing to do so as he was released and sent flying across the courtyard. He bounced, his helmet falling off during the awful skid along the dirt. He stayed there for a moment, senses ringing and his one-eyed vision blurry. Setting his sword down and grimacing in pain, he reached for his side, feeling where that thing had squeezed both sides of his torso.

A glance to where he'd been thrown from showed it to be that scorpion creature. Sibyl growled, a growl which he didn't realize sounded remarkably dark and _different,_ digging his fingers into the dirt. He hadn't seen something _that_ large coming?

A hand on his shoulder managed to bring him back into focus, and he realized someone was speaking to him. "Damn! You alright, Fireball?" A concerned, wide-eyed Yang asked. "A Deathstalker squeezing like that should _kill you!"_

He coughed, a bit of blood coming out with it. Shaking his head as Yang tried to force him to stay on the ground, he made to stand, grinding his teeth against each other to help minimize the pain.

"I couldn't see it. I couldn't see it. By Nito's damned tomb, I couldn't _even see it attack!_ This eye is but another curse, leaving me worthless!" He summoned a fire ball, smashing it into the dirt beneath him and ignoring the wisps of flame which lashed out against his face, stinging lightly. His hand was left buried in the chaos-lava, the effects lessened greatly against himself. It burned but the soothing sight of the flame dissipating helped in calming him. Breathing in deep, he glanced back to find the curious gazes of… well, quite a few people. Yang, Ruby, Weiss and Jaune among them, along with two unfamiliar faces.

He sighed, lowering his head. Gods, he had made himself look insane! What a wondrous impression to make on his second day in their company.

"If your injury has left you with a vulnerable side," Weiss began, reaching out a hand for him to take, "you'll simply have to count on us to cover it."

He stared into her blue, sympathetic eyes, his gaze moving down to the hand. A moment later, he took the outstretched hand to help himself up, chuckling lightly. "I suppose so…" He stumbled as his insides _squeezed,_ yet Weiss helped stop him from falling. He made to thank her, but…

" _Oh, my God,"_ Ruby began, her head suddenly just up in front of him, eyes alit with excitement, "I can't believe you sent that Griffon off! It was _limping,_ and you did that all by yourself! That's so amazing; what was that big teal spear thing, anyways? Ooh, and when the Deathstalker had you, and your blade glowed and slammed in its face and it threw you-"

He tuned out the young girl's babbling, blinking and trying to finish clearing his vision.

"Ren," the orange haired girl spoke, the new voice drawing his attention "…can I learn how to throw fire?"

Ren, a boy with some sort of pink streak in his hair, seemed to freeze. "I… I don't think that's a good idea, Nora."

Before anything else could be said, Pyrrha was thrown much the same way he had been, skidding to a stop near their feet.

"Well, the gang's all here. Now we can die together!"

Yang summed up the situation quite well, he thought.

* * *

"He nearly killed a _very_ old looking Griffon," Glynda muttered, more to herself than Ozpin. He would have killed it had the Deathstalker not interfered, with only a few spell rotations! Older Griffons were known to be _very_ hardy, though their offensive capabilities were hardly impressive. They typically overwhelmed with numbers, given how hard they were to kill and their advantage of being able to fly. Though, to be strict, he _should_ have killed it a bit earlier. It just didn't seem like a normal Griffon to her, even beyond being a seemingly old one. She spared a glance at Ozpin, trying to gauge his reaction. Of course, he didn't have a visible one. She herself was _very_ interested.

"That was what he called a 'Soul Sorcery', correct?"

Ozpin nodded, still overlooking the cliff side as he watched on his own scroll.

"If… if he's offering to teach _that,_ Ozpin, it could be the upper hand we need to finally push the Grimm back."

Ozpin finally turned to look at her, face serious. "I don't doubt it, nor do I think that Griffon was here on a mere coincidence."

Her eyes widened. "You don't think…?"

The old headmaster nodded, turning back to the forest below. "These are dangerous times, Glynda. Very dangerous, and that boy may have more influence on events than he, or even us, may think."

She nodded, moving closer to the cliff. "Mr. Sibyl doesn't seem to have a partner as of yet, and there are none left."

The headmaster tapped his cane on the ground for a few moments. "Given his… circumstances, it might be for the best."

Glynda raised a single brow, looking down at the scroll in her hand which showed just how visibly frustrated the odd boy was.

It was hard to not feel sympathy when he slammed a fire ball into the dirt, the flames going up and smacking against his face, not that he seemed to care. His eye injury must have been _very_ recent, because he had been taken completely by surprise when the Deathstalker approached. Truth be told, she was just glad he was _alive._ When he had been caught between the pincers, she feared it would be the last they ever heard of him.

He didn't seem to have an Aura, either, which is something they _should_ have thought about a lot earlier than now. It was far too late to do anything about it though, and Glynda decided to just thank the stars the leather armor he was wearing seemed to be of _very_ high quality. She watched as he took the offered hand of Weiss Schnee, anger at himself hidden behind a weak chuckle.

Sibyl would be given no partner at this point, and she couldn't think of any teams which were missing a member at the moment. It was a blessing which she briefly considered a curse, before dismissing such a though entirely. He would either be attached to an existing team as an extra member, or exist only as a sole student.

It would at least stop him from being _too_ heavily influenced on who he chose to teach his odd arts, though she suspected most of his students would come from the group which had gathered. It wasn't as if they could do anything about it; he had made it clear he would pick his students personally.

She narrowed her eyes when Jaune Arc showed up on the scroll. He had indirectly caused Mr. Sibyl's near-death. No matter what his transcripts said, he was not ready for the level of combat required at Beacon. Poor Pyrrha, being paired with him… though she was the one who had sought him out. Whether that was to save him from an unsightly death or out of real desire to be his partner, she didn't know.

Her gaze went back to Sibyl. He seemed too advanced for this, but simply having him as a teacher wasn't viable. It would draw far too attention, both from the council and the other kingdoms, not to mention Salem. While she highly doubted Sibyl could be forced by _any_ of them to share his knowledge, they would damn sure try. Humming. Glynda considered the most important question which had been pestering her mind since meeting Sibyl last night.

Could she get him to teach _her_ those Soul Arts?

* * *

The situation was dire, Weiss could admit. She grimaced as Sibyl forced her off, leaning down to pick up that odd, emerald sword of his. She could hardly believe _he_ had managed to drive off a Griffon all by himself, and yet, he had done so. It was very impressive, doubly so with _how_ he had done it. Those odd crystal spears of his were amazing, and she so dearly wished she could wield them, too.

…then he had been caught off guard by the Deathstalker which came from his blind-side. How he wasn't separated at the torso was beyond her, but she was _very glad_ he was alright. It would have been a hard sight to stomach, no matter who it was, even the blonde ball of annoyance who called himself Jaune.

His eye injury was definitely recent, answering a question she'd been afraid to ask. He seemed about as frustrated about it as anyone _could_ be, especially given that it had nearly gotten him snapped in half. He was trying to conceal the pain, but they could all hear him wheezing lightly. None commented on it.

It would be difficult for the situation to get much worse, honestly. The only thing which was missing was Ruby doing something completely, utterly idiotic and-

"Don't worry, I got this!" The _child_ declared, readying her scythe and shooting off before anyone could even think to stop her. Yang's plea for her to stop went unheard, and the older sister rushed ahead to try and help her younger, much more foolish sibling. Sibyl sighed softly, adjusting the blade against his shoulder.

"An old friend once said: what is bravery without a dash of recklessness," he paused, staring as Ruby's little assault ended with her getting flicked back by the Deathstalker's pincer, "but that might have been a bit _too_ bold, I think."

The group nodded in agreement, and Sibyl raised an eyebrow as Ruby began rushing back to them, Deathstalker on her tail.

His fists clenched. "I am going to render that _creature_ little more than a pile of melted flesh and bones," he growled, a fire ball appearing in his hand. That was another thing: how did he have _two_ Semblances?! It made no sense at all. It was _also_ something she'd have to think about later, because as the Nevermore above roared and began to shoot feathers from above, she realized it was _her_ partner out there and she couldn't just let Ruby die.

She'd have done something no matter who it was of course, but still, it was _her_ partner. It would have been very embarrassing for a Schnee to lose a partner on their initiation day. Turning to Sibyl, she had an idea. "You know how you launched Jaune this morning?" He nodded, face scrunched in confusion. "Launch me." Whatever questions he had was ended when she jumped, summoning one of her glyphs beneath her at an angle.

He smirked, reaching at his waist and retrieving some sort of cloth. A moment later, Weiss was sent _flyng_ forward, faster than even her own glyphs would allow by themselves. The line of feathers and Yang's yellow hair was little more than a blur as she flew. She spotted the Deathstalker's yellow stinger coming forward, ready to impale and finish Ruby.

She stopped it with Myrtenaster, slamming her rapier into the ground and using the ice dust within to form a wall of crystals, the stinger getting stuck. Ruby was looking away, eyes shut, and Weiss felt what anger she had mostly dissipate.

"I can't believe you," she began, staring at her partner's form. "You nearly take my head off during an earlier fight, and now, you decide to just _rush_ at a Deathstalker?"

That seemed like the basis of her plan, anyways. Who came up with something like that? Maybe Sibyl might try it, but from what she had saw from him, he had the power and strength to make it work. Still, despite Ruby's problems, maybe she _had_ been a bit harsh. "Despite that, we're partners. And… I suppose I can be a bit difficult."

Gah! Would Ruby get that poor, pitiful little smile off her face! "But if we're going to do this for the next four years, we're going to have to do this together," she continued, internally lamenting the fact _this_ was her partner for the next four years. But she'd make it work. It _had_ to work, and that was why compromise was important. "So if you quit trying to impress everyone, I'll try to be… nicer."

Ruby sighed, still sitting on the ground and looking pitiful. "I'm not trying to show off, Weiss! I just want to show you I can _do this."_

Well… she had a lot of complaints about her, most of them having already been listed, but she didn't seem inherently _bad._ Nothing like Jaune. "You're fine," she declared, turning about and walking off as Sibyl and Yang approached, the latter _very_ concerned looking.

The siblings embraced, Yang practically squeezing the life out of Ruby. "I thought I lost you," the older sister mumbled, not daring to let Ruby go. Weiss turned her eyes away, not feeling it her place to observe personal matters.

"A fine performance, Weiss," Sibyl commented, drawing her attention as she reunited with the larger group.

She flicked her hair, smiling softly. "Of course."

He chuckled quietly as Ruby and Yang rejoined the group by the artifacts. Everything was fine, if only for a moment.

"Guys, that thing's circling back." Jaune observed, head facing the skies. And yes, the Nevermore _was_ circling back. Drat. "What are we gonna do?"

They'd be dead meat here in the middle of the clearing, as Ruby had shown so clearly. There was only one real solution, and she'd be the one to explain it. "There's no sense in dilly-dallying. Our objective is right in front of us."

Ruby nodded. "She's right. Our mission was to get an artifact and get back to the cliff. There's no reason to fight these things!"

Sibyl scoffed, face scrunched in a scowl. "I hardly agree. I will not flee until that _thing_ is little more than a puddle of melted flesh and bones, assistance or no."

The group shared a look as Sibyl adjusted the blade on his shoulder, staring at the stuck Deathstalker with pure, utter _loathing_ in his eye.

"W-What? Why?! You saw what it did to you _last time,_ right?" Jaune questioned.

Weiss had to resist the urge to choke the life out of him. What part of his small, _idiotic_ mind thought that was a smart thing to say?

Their resident one-eyed warrior grabbed Jaune by the breatplate, pulling him up off the grounds slightly and in so close their noses were nearly touching. "If I cannot best that beast in the only thing I've ever experienced in my _miserable_ existence thanks to the damnable injury upon my eye, then I'm hardly worthy of entrance to this school, much less my life. Now, step aside."

Jaune was hardly given a chance _to_ step aside as he was shoved back, Sibyl moving to retrieve his iron helmet which had fallen off during his slide. It ended up bouncing over near the artifacts, in fact. The group spared a look, most a bit too shocked to say much. Well, except Ruby. "Wait! Wait," she said, rushing to get ahead of him and waving her hands wildly, "Listen – we can kill it, but not here. I saw some ruins when we were on the Nevermore; we can fight it there!"

Wait… yes, that could work. They had passed over some ruins during their flight, now that she thought about it. Sibyl nodded. "A fine observation, young Rose," he declared, moving towards the circle of artifacts and grabbing one: a simple pawn.

The rest of them followed suit, Ruby grabbing a knight piece while Jaune grabbed a rook and united with Pyrrha. Why Pyrrha had sought out _him_ as a partner was beyond the heiress, but at least she seemed happy. Actually, it had only just occurred to her, but… "Sibyl? Did you not find a partner?"

He nodded, pocketing the pawn piece. "I did not, but I'm sure I'll be placed on a team regardless." Based on what he did to the Griffon, Weiss was inclined to agree. Pieces retrieved by each group, they rushed off, Ruby and Sibyl leading the way, one with a peaceful aura and the other haunting.

* * *

Ruby had been right, and Sibyl had no real trouble admitting the fact. In his anger at being tossed aside like some worthless doll, he had wanted to engage the Deathstalker instantly and enact revenge. With the Nevermore circling overhead, it would have been a death sentence. Engaging it _here,_ however, in the midst of the ruins was a much wiser and advantageous position. It both limited the angles the Nevermore could take and increased their avenues of attack.

Peeking out from behind the pillar he had taken to using as cover, he ducked back to avoid the feathers from striking his face. Yes, fighting out in the open without the Nevermore occupied would have been an awful idea. Taking another glance out from the pillar when it was clear to do so, he spotted his target enter the clearing.

He could feel his eye flare up in his anger. For once, he didn't even try to stop it, because that would have taken a few minutes, and he intended to give the oversized scorpion no rest. Casting Power Within, he could feel the Aura both invigorate and drain him simultaneously. Sibyl stayed crouched, waiting for the opportunity to best strike.

Nora had engaged the flying Nevermore with some sort of ranged explosive cannon, something that he was _very_ interested in now that he'd seen it. He was not given much time to admire it, however, as the Deathstalker sought to attack her while her back was turned much as it had done to him. Rushing out with a roar, he slashed with his charged blade, the energy blade smashing in the side of its face and drawing its attention. Perfect.

Still marching forward, he conjured a Great Chaos Fireball, tossing it near the limbs of the scorpion. It scooted back, avoiding the explosion, before rushing forward again. Of course, it hadn't seemed to see the patches of chaos lava which were left over. It roared in anguish when it skittered over top of the lava, leaping back and prancing around on its many legs.

He didn't give it a pause, tossing another fire ball which impacted upon its mask. He charged through the explosion of the flame, stepping back briefly to avoid the strike of its stinger before continuing, swinging his blade against the joint of its left pincer. He had to duck to avoid a blow thereafter, and it prepared to strike again on his right. He braced for the blow, but it ended up being blocked by Jaune's shield.

Perhaps he was not entirely useless. Nodding in thanks, Sibyl didn't waste the opportunity, swinging his blade upwards before thrusting it into one of the Deathstalker's eyes. It moved back, striking at him with his stinger – and as it did so, Ren leapt over him, using his bladed weapons to dig a hold onto the tail as it swung back. He was firing… something at it, judging by the noises, and Sibyl could see the stinger begin to loosen.

Pyrrha had already thrown her shield before he could say anything; it was a fine throw, and he couldn't help but admire when it cut through and left the stinger falling, the shield even bouncing right back to Pyrrha.

Sibyl slid forward, letting go of his blade as he conjured Chaos Storm, kindling the flame internally from his chest before slamming it into the ground, the pillars of fire forming everywhere underneath the beast. The flames raised from all around, warming him as if he was in the ruins of Izalith itself.

Much more importantly, however, it ended the life of the damn beast which had made a fool of him.

He crawled out just as it collapsed, too weakened to even stand. He blinked at the sight of Nora falling from the sky, a hammer in her hands which she slammed against the stinger stuck on its head like a nail, a satisfying crunch ensuring that the creature was in fact _dead_. He laughed, lying flat on his back and admiring the blue sky above.

Or, that had been the plan. Instead he got to watch as Ruby was fired at the great Nevermore, her scythe catching the underside of its neck. She then scaled the _entirety_ of the cliff, moving rapidly even with such a great weight. And then, as she reached the top of the cliff and the Nevermore snagged on something, its head was cut off cleanly, petals of red filling the sky and falling freely.

Well, color him impressed.


	5. Rekindling the Arts

_**Chapter 5 has arrived. This is the last chapter I have pre-written, and from now on, expect an update every two weeks or so, ideally. I'd like to speak out on my feelings about Jaune as a character, since a solid number of reviews were speaking on him either negatively or positively.**_

 _ **I've never been a huge fan of stories that simply get rid of Jaune and replace him with a crossover fill-in. I think it forces the author to follow Jaune's own story arc far too linearly and stiffens creativity. It can be done well, of course, but I still think it gets rid of a lot of unpredictability. I think Jaune himself is a well-defined character in the canon. He's someone who wants to be something, has never been important, and struggles with coming into his own. Honestly, I think the reason authors write stories with him so often is that is the exact character archetype for a lot of different anime main-characters.**_

 _ **No, really, think on it. My Hero Academia's main character is probably the closest comparison I can make. As for how Jaune fits into my story, well... it'll be shown eventually.**_

 ** _I don't intend to delve into the details on pyromancy/sorcery more than just this one chapter; it's mostly fluff. That said, it's the sort of needed fluff where if I didn't make some sort of fan-theory on how both functioned, everyone would notice and things would read oddly._**

 ** _Thank you for all the reviews, and I'm glad I have managed to, so far, make Sibyl's eye injury realistic as one reviewer pointed out. I hope you all continue to read and enjoy._**

 ** _Edit: Another thanks to_** _ **ekaterina016 for beta'ing.**_

* * *

Sibyl watched, mouth pursed in a thin line as the many different groups walked up on the stage, being designated a name and their teammates in front of quite the crowd, which cheered appropriately loudly along with each announcement. It was odd, the thunderous clapping which would occur every few minutes; he'd never heard anything like it in Lordran. The system of naming teams was nothing too drastic, simply taking the names of the group members and forming it into something which sounded nice and typically aligned with a color, no matter how obtuse that color may have been.

He was in the back of the line they had been forced to form, behind Ruby and her teammates. It was a bit curious no one besides him had retrieved the other pawn piece, but Sibyl tried not to think on it too much. There could possibly be a team which was missing a member and he could just fill in there, based on what Weiss had informed him in an attempt to appease his worries. He was sure things would be fine, and even if they weren't, he would manage. He always had.

It was strange. When he first heard the idea of teams, it had been frightening. Now, watching as they walked up on stage in unity, together and most _happy,_ he was reminded of the ventures he undertook with his companions. They had always been pleasant, and he'd always wished they could last longer. Yet those in Lordran were always there for their own reasons, be it searching out a sun to call their own or trying to locate the Mother of Pyromancy herself. Perhaps this place would fulfill the fantasy he had longed for? Sure, he had a lot less in common with these children then the band of warriors who ventured Lordran, but they were not without positive traits.

"Jaune Arc, Lie Ren, Pyrrha Nikos, Nora Valkyrie," Ozpin introduced, recapturing his attention. The last group had been some people he hardly recognized, so he didn't bother to memorize their names or team. This group, however, along with the next one could be filled with the familiar faces of those who had assisted in his defeat of the Deathstalker.

Pyrrha… well, he wished he could have been on her team, but hopefully she could form something of a backbone in that Jaune fellow. He _had_ stepped forward to help him fight the Deathstalker, and Sibyl vaguely remembered hearing him bark out some commands. A spine had to be in him _somewhere._ It was hard to say who the lad reminded him of, just that he reminded the Chosen Undead of _someone._

"The four of you retrieved the white rook pieces. From this day forward, you will be known as Team JNPR (Juniper), led by Jaune Arc!"

Sibyl blinked. That was a… surprising choice, to be certain. He would have assumed Pyrrha or even Lie Ren to be chosen as leaders, given their combat abilities and demeanor.

Yang, only a few steps in front of him, whistled. "Get it, Ladykiller!"

Rolling his eyes at the rumbustious nature of the blonde vixen, he stiffened a laugh when Jaune nearly slammed into the floor after Pyrrha clapped him on the back. Jaune would have to be whipped into shape, but there might have been something there worth uncovering.

Sibyl himself had certainly not looked like much when he first left the Asylum.

They left the stage, Pyrrha seeming to be in a good mood as well as the other two of Ren and Nora. Jaune however, walked off like a haunted hollow. Perhaps even he hadn't been expecting to be assigned leader? It was an odd group to observe from his place, but then again, most would have said that about his band of friends in Lordran. Appearances could so often deceive.

He smiled as Ruby, Yang, Weiss and Blake took the stage, being introduced promptly. "From this day forward, you will work together as Team RWBY (Ruby), led by Ruby Rose."

Sibyl laughed and clapped, his own deep voice audible over near everyone else. Ruby would make a fine leader, indeed! He was positive of that fact as he had been about _anything._ Her assault on the Deathstalker showed a large measure of courage, regardless of the outcome. With more maturity and guidance, people could rally behind her with ease. Not to mention how she had managed to rid him of his anger, displaying clarity and calmness. If she could do that consistently with those around her, they would be a fine team.

"There is an exception today," Ozpin began as Ruby and her team left the stage, "Would Sibyl Lordran please come forth?"

He did so, shoulders square and a bit tense. The light was a bit much, forcing him to blink his surroundings into focus. There were a lot of people… he'd never even seen so many! It was as incredible as it as intimidating.

"An odd number of students passed initiation this year. With no other first or second year teams needing a position filled, Sibyl will function as a sole student until such a space opens."

Oh. The undead nodded stiffly, taking a deep breath.

"I congratulate you, young man, along with all of Beacon's new, fine additions."

The clapping was loud in the wake of Ozpin's words, but Sibyl was more concerned with getting off stage than to pay attention to the fanfare. He found Yang waiting at the bottom of the steps, hand on her hip and smirking lightly. "Well, look at that, guess you're just too _hot_ for a team, eh?"

Sibyl shrugged, eyes falling to the ground. "It's a surprise to be sure, but I've always functioned more or less alone." He shook his head, getting rid of the muddling thoughts on his mind and bodying his way past Yang. "I believe I will retire early tonight."

Yang stared in confusion as he walked off. "Huh. I thought he was nervous about teams," she muttered.

Weiss settled in next to her, watching Sibyl leave through the crowd of people. "…He told me he was looking forward to being on a team," the heiress admitted, messing with the hem of her skirt, "It's a shame, really. He doesn't seem to be the most… well-adjusted individual. It might have done him good."

Biting her lip, Yang shook her head silently. "Yeah, right. Listen, Weiss, I'll meet up with you guys back at the dorm in a little bit." Before the heiress could even say anything, Yang was already off.

* * *

Yang paused, her hand hovering inches off from the doorknob to Sibyl's room. He was doing _something_ in there, based on all the noise she heard. It sounded like he was rummaging through his own stuff, which made her hesitate. Did she _really_ want to interrupt whatever he was doing? They really didn't even know each other that well, but she _was_ the one who had brought him here, sorta'. Qrow had just pointed him in the right direction.

Would he even want to see her, or would he be pissed off about not being on a team like she was? He hadn't struck her as someone who could get angry, but that was before he claimed he'd rather _die_ than be unable to kill a freakin' Deathstalker. Jaune had actually made a good point, and he just exploded! Sure, he was probably just sensitive about his eye, but still... maybe she had misread him?

Oh, screw it. When had she, Yang Xiao Long, ever _hesitated_ because she was nervous? Throwing his door open, she entered to a sight she hadn't really expected.

He was sitting on one of the four beds, a metal, bucket-like helmet in his hands, complete with a red feather sticking up from its peak. Her entrance had startled him, seemingly, as his single eye widened. Upon realizing it was her, he relaxed, setting the helmet down next to him. "Yes, Yang?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but found no words coming out. What _was_ she going to say? Nothing, it seemed.

He sighed, gesturing for her to close the door and enter. Things were silent as she took a seat next to him on the bed, blinking at the sight of a _very_ large chest in the center of the room. It was damn near as big as one of the beds! "Ah. Well... I suppose it would be better to show you than let your idle mind spread unsavory rumors. Just do keep this a secret, understood?"

She nodded after a moment, fairly confused on just _what_ he was talking about. Before she could wonder any more, he stood up from his bed, moving over to the open wooden box and reaching in. He pulled out a _gigantic_ stone axe which was more akin to a hammer, something so large there was _no_ damn way that it could fit in there.

Sibyl laughed, apparently finding the way her jaw unhinged _funny_. She huffed after getting her mouth back shut, pointing at the stupid chest. "How the _hell_ did you do that, Fireball?"

He set the stone axe _back_ inside the box, and she tiptoed forward, peeking into it. There was no end to it; it was just a black hole! "This, Yang, is a bottomless box. I hold more items in it than could fit in this room."

Her first instinct was to call him insane and just _leave._ But, as she stared inside the box, Yang realized he might not be lying. It was at least worth investigating, right? She reached a hand in, trying to touch the bottom and failing. Though, her hand _did_ grab something. Pulling it out, she realized it was some sort of glove made of bone?

"The Dragonbone Fist. Quite the hardy weapon, if lacking in reach."

He sure had a flare for naming things; she'd give him that. Setting the armored glove back in the box, she dropped it and watched as it just _disappeared._ Was Fireball being honest? Was it an honest-to-goodness _bottomless box?_ How did it even exist, and much more importantly, how could she get a copy? She really needed one of these. _Every_ girl would probably want one, and here Sibyl was, storing it with more weapons and armor than she cared to count! No one except Ruby would ever use it like that. "…Got a spare?"

He shook his head no, closing the top of the chest. "It is one of a kind, to my knowledge."

Dang. "…Wanna share?"

He just raised a brow, as clear an answer as she was going to get. Well, it was worth a shot.

Sibyl moved back to his bed, staring at her for longer than was comfortable. "Why are you here, Yang?"

Sighing and rubbing at the back of her hand, she wasn't sure how to explain it. "Just wanted to make sure you were alright, you know?"

"I appreciate the thought," he began, leaning back and laying down fully across his bed, "but I am more than capable of dealing with such things myself."

See, he just didn't get it. Maybe it was because he was from the Badlands and wasn't used to being around other people, but even that didn't matter. He _needed_ to get it, now that he was at Beacon. "You shouldn't _have_ to deal with it by yourself, though."

He blinked, but made no move to sit back up right. Yang took a deep breath, adjusting herself on his bed to face him. "You got screwed, alright? It's not fair you're the _only_ student at this entire school without a partner or a team. No one here is _supposed_ to deal with anything by themselves, and that includes you, team or not!"

Sibyl was silent as she rambled, though he did force himself to sit back up.

"Listen, Fireball. What I'm saying is, you may not have gotten placed on a team, but you got friends, right? You don't have to deal with everything on your own, even if it's what you're used to."

Yang took a deep breath, eyes shut for a moment. When they next opened, it was to the sight of Sibyl stroking the stubble on his chin.

"Perhaps," he _almost_ conceded. "Regardless, thank you for your concern."

It was the best she was going to get. Hopefully he heard what she was saying and hadn't just pretended to listen.

An awkward silence overtook the room, one Sibyl broke with a cough.

"…Ozpin has asked of me to teach both my pyromancy and Soul Sorcery in return for his assistance," Sibyl began, conjuring a beautiful flame in his open palm. She couldn't get over how mesmerizing it was, the way it managed to glow such a dark red so _brightly._ "I recall you being quite eager to learn the art, and... well, you did help me find this place."

She blinked, eyes zipping up from the flame to his lightly grinning face. "Right," Yang muttered, unable to keep a similar smirk off her face. Fireball was really going to teach her how to throw fire balls, wasn't he? This was going to be _amazing._

"There are many ways to learn pyromancy, but we will be going with the method I learned as well as the fastest one." He paused, keeping his gaze on the flame in his hand. Slowly, its color changed, losing the deep red hue and becoming more… well, she'd call it regular, though the fact he was holding it directly above his hand made it anything but.

"Come closer, please." He closed his singular eye as she did so, and the flame in his hand grew smaller and smaller, eventually becoming no larger than a candle light in his palm. She noticed it still had a red center, though one had to squint a bit to see it through the normal orange and yellow. "A flame is a precious thing, something to be nurtured for an entire lifetime." He moved his open palm closer to her chest, stopping it inches away. His grey eye stared into her violet one, unblinking. "This flame is a piece of _me,_ Yang, and sharing it creates an eternal bond. Such a bond is the only thing I have left to remember _my_ two masters by, and through giving this to you, they too will become a part of you."

He smiled, but it wasn't exactly happy. "Please, honor their legacy."

She nodded, the smirk previously on her face gone. The way he spoke made it clear the two were gone and _probably_ dead. She didn't have any more time to think on it when his hand touched against her chest, and she _felt_ something, a sort of warmth she had trouble describing. It went beyond being just comforting; it was something that she could only think of as _right._

She kept expecting it to fade, but it never did. It just stayed, pulsing within and making her feel alive in a way she never thought possible. "…It's incredible," she whispered, eyes shut as she tried to memorize as much of the sensation as she could.

"I felt much the same when Laurentius was kind enough to share his flame with me." His lips quirked up into a smile, "And no, it never fades. The flame completes us in a way only pyromancers could ever know." He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly. "To my knowledge, we're the only two pyromancers in these lands. You are part of a very exclusive group now, Yang."

She pumped a fist, unable to keep just how _excited_ she was contained. "Awesome!" And it _was_ awesome. Her and Fireball, the only two pyromancers in _all_ of Vale? She liked the sound of it, too. Yang Xiao Long, pyromancer extraordinaire!

"Indeed, it is _awesome._ Now, sit down, cross legged."

Oh, he was going to show her something absolutely incredible, wasn't he? She plopped down near instantly, having to stop herself from wiggling in excitement. He stiffened a chuckle in his throat, looking at her with a small spark in his eye. "Concentrate on the flame within you, guide it out through your core into your palm."

Right, right, she just had to draw it out. She could even feel it! This was gonna' be a breeze, then he could start teaching her how to toss fire balls. All she had to do was guide it out. Closing her eyes, she… what as she supposed to do, exactly?

"…Uh, how?"

He sighed, lowering himself onto the floor in front of her. "It is an intrinsic instinct. The flame is a lifelong companion, and as long as you take care of it, it will always work with you." That was… very vague and unhelpful. Sibyl pinched the bridge of his nose in response to her cluelessness. "Give me your hand."

She did so, feeling just how rough and coarse those hands of his _were._ "The flame is more a part of you than it is me at this point, but it should listen to my guidance if you assist it." There was a pause as he moved his palm underneath hers, placing his other hand atop hers. An instant later, she could _feel_ it pull inside her. It was small, like an itch on her back, but she could feel it.

It was hard to help guide it, though she tried.

"Do not command it, Yang. _Move it,_ just as you might will your hand to move."

Gah, did he not realize she was _trying?!_ Scowling, she tried to focus, closing her eyes and just feeling _it_ within her body.

Slowly, she was able to identify it and feel the tug. How was she supposed to let it _flow,_ though? Move it like she moved her hand… could she be thinking about it too much? It was worth a shot. Removing any thoughts from her mind, she just… _let it go,_ visualizing a wavering flame in her mind.

They stayed like that for who knows how long, Sibyl's hands covering her own as she focused on _nothing_ so intently, she could hear her heart beat and nothing else.

"Open your eyes, Yang."

She did so, staring as he removed his top hand from hers, allowing her to see the _fire that she was holding!_ She was holding fire… sure, it was as small as a candlelight, but _it was hers,_ and she was holding it! Sibyl slowly removed his other hand from beneath hers, and the flame _stayed,_ flickering lightly.

This was all her, then. Sibyl wasn't guiding her. _She was doing it!_ Smiling, she glanced up from the flame at Sibyl, giggling like she was fourteen before looking back down _– aaannd_ then her flame died, disappearing back inside her... soul or something. Who really knew? Frowning and trying to conjure it again, she _did,_ if only for a moment. Squinting in concentration, she tried to bring it back and _keep_ it, but all that happened was the same brief flicker.

"Control will come in time. Once you're able to conjure it and maintain it, I can teach you _actual_ casts, which focus largely on loose internal visualization." He paused, rubbing his chin. "The flame is different in that manner to sorcery." He waved off his own words when her head tilted in confusion. "We can worry about that later. For now, simply practice until you can maintain a candlelight-sized flame effortlessly."

Standing up with a stretch as her back popped, she nodded, looking over at the clock. She couldn't stop herself from whistling. They had been there a _lot_ longer than what it felt like. Still, it wasn't too late, but she probably shouldn't stay up for much longer.

Sibyl had taken that helmet on his bed and set it on his desk, staring at it for a few seconds before turning back to her. "I shall see you in the morning, Yang."

"Right. Well, thanks for the lesson, Fireball, it was a real _blast_."

He gave her a blank look.

"What? A _blast,_ like how your fire balls explode?"

He shook his head, dismissing her with a wave. "Goodnight, Yang."

Some people just had no appreciation for good humor.

Pausing outside of his door, she held out her palm and tried to cause the flame to flicker again, which it did. Well, she had that part down. Now she just needed to get it to last longer than a quarter of a second…

* * *

Sibyl awoke to the sound of something _blaring_ a noise so loud he thought his damn eardrums were going to pop and leave him deaf. Rolling onto his feet, he crouched, prepared to attack whatever in Izalith had awoken him in such a manner. It took a moment of scanning to find the source of the noise: a small, rectangular box with four numbers on its front: 0 _8:30._

Approaching slowly, he squinted at it, not exactly wanting to destroy it without any knowledge of _what_ it was. He had already made such a mistake with Yang's odd 'motorcycle' _._ He pressed the front which extended out slightly, where the red digits were displayed, and nothing happened except for him pushing the blasted contraption back. Grimacing, he tried pushing in its top, seeing something which extended past the flat top.

It did the trick, the noise stopping and giving him a sweet, sweet silence. He sighed in relief, moving back to his bed and sitting down. The peace lasted all of five seconds before he was forced to glance over at his closet, where his 'uniforms' were. He tried to glare at the blasted closet, but it was interrupted by a large yawn. His sleep had been largely peaceful, and for the first time in a long time, he had pleasant dreams. He figured it was the bed he was laying atop. It was more comfortable than anything he ever had the pleasure to sleep atop, and it was just another benefit to his stay in this world.

Scratching at his infected eye, he realized the cloth had come loose and was only half wrapped. Maybe he should simply use an eyepatch? Did he even _have_ an eyepatch? Hmm. He'd find out later; first, he would shower. This place had the same invention Yang's family home did, a boon he intended to take advantage of.

Discarding his robes on the counter, he had to admit there were _some_ advantages to being on his lonesome. The most prominent being he would not have to wait for anyone else to use the shower, and he could change freely in his room without having people question his many scars.

The shower was as enjoyable as he remembered it being, the heated water washing over his rough skin and giving him a sense of cleanliness which was never available in Lordran. He had been in the midst of simply _enjoying_ himself when the damn rectangular block began sounding again. He cursed aloud, slamming his forehead against the wall in front of him. So much for his extended enjoyment…

Wrapping himself in the towel hanging on the wall, he stood in front of the box which now displayed _08:40._ He pressed the button he had earlier, but the thing _didn't stop._ Pushing it in again, nothing happened. Sibyl slammed his fist down on the device, shattering it and ending the noise once more, this time, permanently.

…hopefully it wasn't that important.

Shaking his head, he went about getting dressed in his uniform. It was just so… _ugly._ Simply looking at it made him feel as if he had a stick up his rear _._ Who would wear such a thing? It was entirely too close to traditional sorcerer wear for his liking. Really, how Griggs had managed to stay in that Vinheim-brand cloth-prison for so long was beyond him.

Sighing softly, Sibyl took to putting the uniform on, from trousers to undershirt, then his coat. There was something else which was apparently supposed to go with it: a red piece of cloth, but _how_ to put it on was a bit beyond him. He dismissed it entirely, throwing it onto the ground. Now, what had Glynda said he would need for classes…

Lady Goodwitch really had been of great assistance, meeting with him before their ceremony on teams. She claimed to have readied him a bag with everything he would need, and said something about unlocking his Aura at a later date. What exactly an Aura was, he didn't know, even if she had tried to explain it. Regardless, it seemed important with how she had spoken of it.

Hmm. Taking a glance around, he managed to find the bag she readied beneath his desk. It was a leather satchel, and he noticed something was atop it. Well, imagine that. There was an eyepatch, quite a large one.

That decided it, then. Lady Goodwitch would be one of his sorcery students, perhaps with one other. She had been very helpful, far more than Qrow or Ozpin, and Sibyl would repay such kindness in full. It was a firm belief of his, one of the few things which managed to keep him sane in Lordran. That land could twist others, but he would never allow it to twist him.

He readied the black eyepatch around his eye, taking a deep breath before walking out his door.

Right, which way was he supposed to go? Sibyl picked right, praying to Velka it was the correct choice.

When Weiss rushed by him, followed by the rest of Team RWBY and Team JNPR, he figured he had chosen wrong. Yang snagged his hand as she ran by, dragging him along to… somewhere.

* * *

The nature of the class he found himself in was not what he had been expecting. It was not akin to his lessons with Logan, with hours spent discussing the interworking of Soul Sorceries, questions on the diameter of the Crystal Soul Spear and how the newly formed crystals would throw off the balance of the focused soul energy, forcing him to loosen the thickness. Nor was it like his lessons with Laurentius or Quelana, a more introspective, relaxed setting that was him learning and simply being guided by a mentor. What one discovered themselves always imparted the best lessons; that had been Laurentius's belief, at least.

If he had to place what the class reminded him of, it was that of the very, _very_ few times all his companions had been united around Firelink, sharing their own tales of what they had encountered in Lordran, from Siegemeyer's thrilling tale of besting a black knight to Laurentius speaking on his journey _to_ the land of ancient lords itself.

Of course, opposed to it being a more well-rounded set of bonfire tales, he and the professor were the only ones speaking. Sibyl somewhat doubted most of the other students in the classroom would have anything interesting to share. They were all children, not hardened warriors.

"Really, Mr. Sibyl? You disagree?"

He was forced to nod. The professor was not _wrong,_ per se, but his actions had been reckless and perhaps more reliant on luck than anything. Then again, such a description would fit for most of his own tales.

"Largely, oiling oneself up bare naked, whilst a sound strategy against a horde of snakes which rely largely on restriction, puts you in a terribly exposed position should anything else show up. Even against a mere Beowolf, any huntsman could slip up and find themselves vulnerable." He didn't mention that under no circumstances would _he_ ever do such a thing, nor call out that Professor Port's tale seemed far-fetched. It was half the fun of such stories, after all.

Peter stroked his mustache, intrigued. "Hmm. In the end, life is but a game of risks! As huntsmen and huntresses, it is our job to take these risks in order to protect those who depend on us!"

Sibyl nodded. "You're quite right. Bravery without a dash of recklessness is hardly bravery at all."

"Such wise words. They remind me of a tale from my youth. Why, when I was as equally handsome back then as I am now, I was instructed to…"

Sibyl half paid attention, half roamed the thoughts of his own mind, never once letting the Professor know he wasn't giving his full focus on the tale. He asked a few mindless questions here and there, as was polite to do. None liked to be ignored, and should he ignore Port now and not interact, then he could hardly expect to be given respect if he ever felt like sharing his _own_ tale. Head forward and attention split, he took to seeing how those around him were feeling with a shifting of his eye.

Yang was unfocused on the lecture _,_ instead keeping a hand under her desk and, judging by the way her face was scrunched, attempting to conjure her flame. He could admire the dedication and resolved to assist her more later. There was definitely a bit more peace within him now, not being the _only_ pyromancer in this world. It was a beautiful art, and he didn't believe in keeping such things to himself.

The only thing next was to teach his sorceries. Glynda would be one of his students, simply because she was incredibly useful and seemed intrigued by them if the way her eyes lit up every time he dared to cast one was an indication. Still, only teaching one person his sorceries seemed wasteful.

Pyromancy was different – far different. The bond between student and master in pyromancy was a special one, given the nature of how one passed on a piece of their very own flame. Sorceries were more practical, and from what Logan had told him, often taught in larger groups. Still, he wouldn't be teaching more than a few students, both because he had things himself to worry about, and secondly, he had _no experience_ teaching!

He still was not entirely sure if Yang was a wise choice. While not explicitly stating he would teach her prior to the night before, they had danced around the subject. Given that he had to teach someone regardless, he figured her to be a fine enough choice. She had cared enough to check on his well-being, even, so it was a step-up from most others at this academy he might teach.

Regardless, he was still thinking on who to choose as other possible students. His eyes naturally drifted to Blake and Weiss, the former who seemed just as bored as the rest of them, but at least was trying to not _appear_ so, and just failing miserably. Weiss… she was taking notes, but something seemed to be distracting her.

Judging by how Ruby was balancing her notebook on a pencil, a sort of inkless pen which he was very glad to now possess, he was inclined to think _she_ was the one distracting Weiss from the tale their teacher was weaving.

He hummed lightly, unsure what to think.

"…the moral of the story is that a true huntsman must be honorable, dependable, strategic, well-educated, and wise!" Peter announced, eyes scanning the class and recapturing Sibyl's attention. "Mr. Sibyl! Would you like to demonstrate these traits in action? I can see you're already armed, so it will save us some time."

Shrugging, Sibyl rose to his feet with a stretch, moving out from his desk to the floor below and unsheathing the Balder Side Sword he had scrapped on to his hip before leaving. "The wear is somewhat unseemly," he explained, not liking how tightly his clothes hugged him as he settled across from the cage where a Grimm rattled threateningly inside, "but I once found myself behind bars with little more than a loincloth and wits to my name, forced to fight my way out past serpent guards. I'll be fine."

Peter laughed, "O-ho, I'll have to hear the details of _that_ story later. For now, I want to see these skills of yours in action!"

"Let's go, Fireball!" Yang cheered, pumping a fist.

"Yeah! Go Sibyl!" Ruby followed up, electing a small sigh from Weiss.

"Do well, Sibyl," was her less than enthusiastic cheer.

"Are you ready?"

The undead nodded. Peter didn't waste a second thereafter to slash at the joint of the cage, allowing it to fall open. What rushed out was a boar, one _far_ smaller and less armored than the iron-plated ones he was used to dealing with all throughout Lordran. His eyes studied what parts of it _were_ armored, mostly just being the front and the top of it.

Its tusks would be more difficult than those of the iron-plated boars, but he would be allowed far more openings to attack from. Rolling aside as it charged at him, he waited for it to turn around and charge at him again. He sidestepped this charge, thrusting with his blade into its exposed side.

It roared in pain, attempting to strike him with flailing tusks. He was left on the back foot for only a second as it continued to flail; as its head went low and struck up. He waited for its jaw to be raised before kicking it with his full strength. It was sent skidding across the room, staying down for a moment before shaking its head.

Blinking, Sibyl watched as it balled up and began to _roll_ at him, something he had long ago developed a tactic to deal with. Sliding his foot back and moving his palm forward, he waited until it was feet away to channel a Great Combustion from his hand, the fire exploding against its form and sending it onto its back.

Leaping forward and raising his blade, he brought it down overhead through the stomach of the beast, rendering it dead.

It took him a few seconds to realize those around him were speaking words of encouragement. His focus naturally went to Peter.

"Well done, Mr. Sibyl! I can see you're well on your way to becoming a fully-fledged hunter."

Sibyl inclined his head, pushing off the body of the beast beneath him and tearing his sword out forcefully. "I always enjoy discovering new beasts to slay," he announced, flicking his blade but realizing there was no blood to remove. Shrugging, Sibyl returned it to its sheathe. "O-ho! So do I, my boy! Until such a time, though, class is dismissed. Be sure to cover all assigned reading."

Right, the readings. He had been having a remarkably hard time keeping up with what was in his book, thus why he had simply _shut_ it and decided to listen.

Well, their class had gone by quickly. Sibyl moved back to his seat, retrieving the bag he had been given before deciding to find Weiss and speak with her on the possibility of learning Soul Sorceries. That, and… well, given how he was struggling to understand some of the text he was reading, it seemed prudent he got someone to help him. The Schnee seemed to be a reasonable option, all things considered.

He needed help understanding it, and he dared not go to Yang for reasons which were a bit beyond him.

Scanning for the white-haired heiress, he couldn't find her, nor could he find Ruby. The two had certainly rushed out, it seemed. Sighing softly, he waited patiently as Yang approached him, Blake following a bit behind her partner.

"Sibyl!" She greeted, " _Please_ guide the flame again. I can _feel_ how close I am, but I'm just missing something!"

Blake blinked, looking between the two of them in confusion. Sibyl took Yang's hand with his own, moving his palm beneath hers and beckoning the flame. She summoned her candle-sized flame, the conjured fire flickering unsteadily before she managed to calm it. He waited a few seconds before removing his hand, watching to see if her flame would fizzle out quickly or not.

It lasted a few admirable seconds, but no longer than that. The blonde cursed in anger, stomping a foot and glaring at her open palm as if her gaze would cause it to come back. He rolled his eyes.

"…what was that?" Blake questioned, eyes shifting between the both of them.

"It is pyromancy, and Yang is my student. No, it is not a Semblance. Yes, I can teach others how to do it."

The black-haired girl closed her mouth as Sibyl finished speaking, nodding slowly. He spared Yang a glance, who was stubbornly attempting to re-conjure even a spark of her flame. "Well, at least I hope I can teach. Yang will be the answer."

"Oh, don't you worry, Fireball. I'm going to figure this stupid fire thing out."

"I'm positive you will, Yang." He cleared his throat, giving a nod to their professor who was watching their interactions with a raised brow. "I am attempting to find Weiss to offer her a similar training proposition," he began, barely able to get a few words out before Yang interrupted, stopping her attempted conjuring.

"What? Her? The hell you going to teach _her_ for?"

It was a rather… aggressive view towards Weiss. He certainly hadn't found her too unpleasant, so surely her teammates…

It didn't matter. "I believe her to be inclined towards the Soul Arts."

Yang narrowed her eyes at him briefly, before scoffing. "The only thing she's _inclined_ towards is being a bitch, you know."

Blake nodded softly too. "She has been… difficult since we've met."

Sibyl ignored the words. "Perhaps. I would prefer to judge myself, however, so if you do not mind." With a nod of the head, he dismissed himself, pushing past the two ladies and towards the door.

"We still have classes," Yang interrupted, grabbing him by the hand. "Don't want you to get lost. Can't it wait?"

He sighed. While he would have preferred for them to get started sooner rather than later, it _could_ wait, and he didn't have the energy to fight Yang on it.

* * *

Classes, Sibyl decided, were simply dreadful. He had attended one more that day, as apparently they wouldn't always have the same number of classes each day, though first-years were quite standardized in curriculum. It lasted around two hours, much as Peter's class had, and had come after he ate a quick lunch, managing to find Lady Goodwitch during that period, but not Weiss. The good news was he had more than a few hours of sunlight; Glynda would be arriving outside his room in an hour, and he would teach her and Weiss at the same time, assuming the Schnee heir accepted his proposal.

Finding Weiss was more difficult than he would have preferred, but he eventually managed to do so, with the heiress sitting alone on a courtyard bench. She didn't say much when he opted to sit next to her, removing his sheathe to do so and setting it in his lap. She gave him a small look and a nod, but little else. Humming, Sibyl debated whether to strike his offer now or later. As he stared at her with a side-long gaze, he realized that perhaps a bit of prep work was necessary.

"…are you well, Weiss?"

It wasn't the right thing to say, apparently, because the Heiress turned to him, eyes narrowed and face scowling. "What do you think?"

"I hardly know what _to_ think, Weiss. Everything here is so… odd to me. You, Yang – even that blasted rectangular device which woke me up this morning, blaring."

She blinked, her face losing some of its anger. "…An alarm clock?"

He nodded. "The name will suffice."

Weiss didn't say anything for a few moments, sighing before turning her head to face him. "Where are you from, anyways?"

"A place better left forgotten, where dreams and man alike go to die." He closed his one good eye slowly, leaning back against the bench. It was as apt a description one could make for Lordran, but perhaps he should be more careful with his details. Then again, they all thought him to come from the Badlands, didn't they? It hardly mattered what he said. "So, no, Weiss, I do not know what to think. I do not know why you seem to be upset at Ruby, nor why you refuse to be upfront with me on just what _is_ wrong?" These people… he was only beginning to realize he just couldn't _understand_ them. They wouldn't put aside their differences like he was so used to, because they weren't one of maybe the remaining twelve sane souls in an entire land.

They were… normal. And he wasn't.

"…it's Ruby. I just can't believe she was chosen to be team leader – over me, even! She refuses to pay attention in class, instead doodling and just… wasting her time! Does she not realize what Beacon _is?_ I came here because I thought it had high standards, and I'm beginning to think that was a mistake."

Sibyl shrugged. "Perhaps it was, but it all sounds very… petty to me, no offense intended." Judging by the look on her face, she _was_ offended. "You claim her to be a child, yet within a day of knowing her, you assume to know _all_ there is about Ruby Rose. To you, she is ignorant and childish, refusing to take things seriously. To me? She spoke up to _me,_ of all people, when I was infuriated by that damn Deathstalker, talking sense into me and bringing us all together instead of leaving me alone to face down such a beast. She is courageous and kind, not to mention observant."

He paused, giving a moment to let things sink in. "People are complex – far more so here than where I hail from. I'd suggest giving her time; she may surprise you."

Weiss was silent in the wake of his words, staring at the ground below. Hopefully his words did something to calm her. To be frank, he didn't want to deal with Yang being angry at him teaching Weiss, who in turn was rude to Ruby. Gods – Lordran really _was_ a lot simpler than this place. "But, enough of that! I have been instructed to teach my soul sorceries, and I would like to take you on as one of my few students."

She was entirely confused at his offer.

"You recall the large, teal arrow I shot during initiation?"

Her mouth formed an 'O' _,_ and he watched her eyes light up. "I can- you can teach that?"

He nodded, satisfied she seemed thrilled at the prospect. "Indeed. Well, hopefully – I've never taught anyone before."

Weiss stood with a smile, as did he. "It sounds… pleasant. Who else will be learning with us?"

* * *

Glynda had been in a great many situations before, some dangerous, some awkward, and a great many more simply _weird._ Yet, despite her years of experience, this was new grounds for her; she had never been taught something by a student, who was also teaching _another one_ of her students. Yes: Sibyl had decided on teaching both herself and Weiss Schnee the so-called Soul Arts, and while she was very grateful to be chosen, it didn't change that the situation was weird. At least her attempts at _buttering him up,_ as Qrow might say, had worked splendidly. She preferred not to think of it as manipulation, simply because she wanted her students to be as prepared as they could be. She would have done all she had done regardless of his ability to teach such extraordinary abilities... probably.

It was a bit odd he was teaching them in his room, though, and she noticed with no real feelings that it was barren.

Nothing hung on the walls, and she couldn't see anything which wasn't standard issue except for his chest. He was standing over that chest, actually, pulling out more than a few catalysts and staffs. He didn't seem to realize _she_ already had a catalyst, though she hesitated to correct him on picking them out. Mostly because she was curious at _how_ he kept getting them out of that chest, and secondly, just how many _did_ he have? Weiss seemed to be having similar thoughts to her, as her eyes continued to widen when Sibyl pulled out another staff which simply _should not have fit_ inside the chest!

Clearing her throat, Sibyl glanced back at her, eyebrow raised. "...if you don't mind, _how_ exactly are you getting those out?"

He laughed lightly at her question, beckoning both herself and Weiss forward. "Yang had quite the similar reaction." He paused for a second, breathing softly. "My teachers always believed mutual trust was required for a student to flourish. I can hardly spit in the face of what they believed, so when I show you this, I do expect you two to _keep quiet_ about it, understood?"

They nodded, Glynda a bit more hesitantly. It depended, but she would always do her best to respect his wishes. If it was something _truly_ dire, however, she may be forced to inform Ozpin.

"This is a bottomless box, one created with magic which is so far beyond me I don't even bother to wonder on it."

Weiss couldn't help herself; she scoffed. "A bottomless box? That's impossible."

It certainly sounded impossible, but Glynda didn't question it. If Sibyl claimed it to be a bottomless box, then she would believe him.

The boy shrugged, stepping aside and allowing her and Weiss to look inside. "It is able to expand freely, from the size of my hand to… well, as large as you see in front of you. I hold more items within it than could fit in this very room." The Schnee heir reached in with her hand, grabbing something and attempting to pull it out. Emphasis on _attempt,_ because whatever it was had to be heavy _._ Sibyl stopped her before she could fall _into_ the box, and he grabbed whatever she was trying to lift with ease.

Glyda found herself blinking. It was a greatshield, made entirely of… stone? Very, very _thick_ stone, that she could tell, and it was wrapped in chains. "Ah, yes. Havel's Greatshield. It can withstand nearly anything, provided one has the strength to wield it."

That was all well and good, but truth be told, she didn't understand _how the hell_ it was in that chest _._

"…It really is a bottomless box?" Weiss muttered, electing a nod from Sibyl.

"Again, it's best not to think too hard on it."

Glynda spared a glance at Weiss, who seemed to be doing _precisely_ that – thinking hard on it.

Her strange, one-eyed student took a moment to set Havel's Greatshield back in the chest, dropping it without worry. "Now," he began, completely ignoring how Weiss was still staring at the strange box with a dangerous glint in her eye, "what I have laying on my bed is the assortment of _all_ catalysts which I possess."

It was quite the collection, she'd admit, but… "Mr. Sibyl, I already have a catalyst for my very own Semblance." She reached down and retrieved it, adjusting the riding crop she preferred to use to its full length. He hummed, holding out a hand to inspect it. She allowed him to after a _moment_ of hesitation. A Huntress's weapon was her lifeline, after all.

He scanned it carefully, running a finger down its side before pointing it at the ground, eyes unfocused as he did some sort of silent cast. She watched as the same blue arrow he had shown to her and Ozpin shot out from the tip, crashing into the ground before exploding. It caused a small amount of damage, but nothing _too_ severe. She likened it to someone swinging a heavy hammer against the floor.

"Hmm. Well, imagine that." He handed it back to her, turning his attention to Weiss. "Then it seems you have the full choice, Weiss! Pick any you like; I'm rather attached to the ivory branch catalyst, as its small size helps given how many weapons I typically carry."

It made enough sense; he already wielded typically large weapons, and he had that talisman at his hip, too. Glynda was simply glad her catalyst would work for the odd magic he was going to teach. It would stop her from being more… predictable during combat.

Weiss scanned the catalysts in front of her, eventually settling on a wooden one which was roughly waist-to-head long. She grabbed it, giving it an admiring view before turning to Sibyl with a nod.

However, he seemed quite tense as he stared at it. He took it from her briefly, hand squeezing against the wood before he sighed. "A fine choice, Weiss. This catalyst belonged to my teacher, and truth be told, I can hardly hold it without getting sentimental."

He handed it back over to the Schnee, but she refused to take it, shaking her head. "I can't. It's clearly important-"

Sibyl forced it into her hands. "Weiss, please. I can't bear the thought of Logan's catalyst – his second most prized possession, behind maybe his hat – rotting away in my bottomless box because I'm too much of a coward to wield it."

Glynda frowned lightly, filing away his words. She was beginning to form something of a picture with regards to Sibyl's past, and none of it was pleasant. He didn't seem too… _upset_ about any of it, oddly. More resigned if anything. Hopefully he might share more with them in the future, but she wasn't going to force any details out.

"…well, if you insist."

He smiled, a genuine one, and nodded. "I do. Now, the both of you have catalysts, but we won't be using them immediately. To cast sorcery, one must be able to comprehend _what_ it is we're casting. It is the opposite of pyromancy in that manner. Pyromancy is all instincts and feeling; sorcery is knowledge and structure." Glynda nodded, lowering herself to the floor as Sibyl did the same, taking a cross-legged position. Weiss followed the example a moment thereafter.

"Before anything else, allow me to explain a few things." He took a deep breath, his one, grey eye switching between her own two and Weiss's pair. "Consider all three of us equals. I am here to teach, but as Seeker Logan once told me, nothing is a better learning experience _than_ teaching. No question you ask is a foolish one; the only foolish question is the one you allow to remain unanswered." He let the words sink in for a few seconds, and she couldn't help but admire them, actually, because they were more mature than what she expected form one so young. "Lady Goodwitch, I understand you have age on both myself and Weiss, as well as being a teacher for the both of us." She nodded. "That being said, do not think it matters here. As far as I am concerned, Weiss is to treat you as a _peer."_

They both shared a look, Weiss seemingly somewhat intimidated by the prospect. Truth be told, Glynda wasn't sure how to approach it, either. She was not the instructor in this place, however, and so she would follow the rules he laid out.

"Excellent. Now, I will try to recall what I was taught, both by Griggs, but more so Logan, so you two can comprehend the groundwork for sorcery.

"Sorceries are the soul manifested in perhaps its purest form. They are versatile and powerful, and none are more feared in life and combat than a master of them. Casting sorceries depend on two things: one's own comprehension, and the structure of the spells themselves. Each spell has two parts, guided by…"

Glynda couldn't be positive how long they sat on the floor of his room like that, mostly _talking_ about soul sorceries and Sibyl answering any questions herself and Weiss may have had. He was… very good at explaining things, actually, and she found her comprehending things earlier than she expected. They had spent the early part of the lesson simply making an attempt to form a sort of blue energy at the tip of their catalyst, and once they had done that, Sibyl delved further into his explanations.

Sorceries were comprised of two parts: structure and composition. Before one could form the structure of a spell, one had to understand what they were doing. It was not a simple internal visualization; it was all the intricacies of the visualization. To cast a simple Soul Arrow, Sibyl had explained, required one to understand it was _their_ soul energy, tightly compacted together and shaped. They had to know the soul would always want to disperse, and unless they focused on keeping it shaped intently, it would simply explode in their face or travel less than three feet. There were more details, how it wasn't just their soul they were drawing on, but the souls of the world. It was an energy in the air, unseen and unfelt unless in the most enchanted of places. They couldn't just _imagine_ it existed; they needed to _know_ it did, much in the same way they knew that gravity existed.

Given that Aura and Semblances existed, it wasn't too hard to do so.

Other spells would have different compositions, he had explained, but they would get to that later. That was all they did: talk. Sibyl answered any questions they had on just how the soul functioned, what it was drawn to, and how it formed.

"Sibyl, how does one _shape_ the souls, though?"

He stroked his chin in response to Weiss's question, thinking on a good way to describe it. "Much the same way we shape anything, Weiss. A blacksmith pours molten steel into a cast, thus forming the shape of a blade. He then pounds out the finer details, sharpens the edges, until he deems it _perfect._

"We take the energies around us, or even our own soul, and shape that. Opposed to a physical cast, of course, we shape it in our mind. It is why you must be very _exact_ in your visualization. Simply imagining an arrow of souls as one might imagine a ball of fire for pyromancy would not be enough – one must know the exact parameters around each spell. The length, the diameter, _where_ most of the energy is to be focused, and so on. If not, it can have disastrous effects."

He let the words settle as Weiss took some notes, and in fact, so did Glynda. "It is why forming new spells is so difficult. It requires countless hours of experimentation, and while comprehension and knowledge of how soul energy _generally_ wants to function helps, the art itself can be inherently unique from cast to cast. One might think both Soul Arrow and Soul Spear function similarly, yet they are near opposites. Soul Arrow's energy is focused near the front, balled up so as to carry the cast forward. It is why we concentrate the form so heavily; it is a weaker cast, and thus more prone to disperse, as souls are always drawn to other souls.

"Soul _Spear,_ however, is a larger cast which requires more energy, with all of said energy flowing from the back and sharpened in the front. The energy is not as tightly compacted except at the front; we only lightly thicken it, so the soul magic can move forward after impact and really deliver its damage. It is designed to pierce, _then_ explode _,_ while the arrow is more akin to a blunt hammer, despite its name.

"Even more interesting is when we get to things such as Fall Control, which involve using a soft cover of souls to cushion your joints and bones. Perfecting that cast was... quite painful," he admitted, grimacing.

Sibyl stood with a stretch, gesturing for them to do the same. He walked over to his bed, grabbing two scrolls – and she did mean _actual_ scrolls, as in old bundles of parchments. He handed one to both of them, smiling lightly. He seemed to be enjoying this as much as the both of them, truthfully. "Inside those scrolls are the exact parameters and structure behind the basic Soul Arrow. Unlike pyromancy, sorcery starts off quite easy and gets far, _far_ more difficult. I would ideally like the both of you to be able to cast this within a few hours."

He went over to his bottomless box, retrieving Havel's Shield once more and placing it up against his dresser. "Now, you can cast against this shield as practice."

Glynda and Weiss both shared a look, nodding. The tenseness between them had dissipated quite quickly after they both began asking questions, and for that, she was grateful. Glynda unfolded her scroll, reading the details with intrigue. And, really – it did have exact measurements, from diameter to length, thickness and more. Well, exact perhaps wasn't the right word.

For thickness, it was likened to an iron pole: rigid and unbending. She was left wondering _how_ they would ever know if the thickness was correct, and she asked Sibyl that exact question. He chuckled, raising his one visible eyebrow. "Well, Glynda, if it doesn't explode in your face, you can only assume it was correct. It is also a _combat_ spell. We might never feel it, but whoever we're facing will."

It was a good enough explanation, though she still had some questions. Shaking her head, Glynda reread the instructions. It took dozens of attempts – and God, did she feel _very_ foolish when she waved her catalyst and nothing happened, before something _did_ happen. A teal arrow shot out, making it about halfway to the shield before dissipating into the air.

"…that's impressive. Your very first semi-successful cast already has such a clear form. It took me hours to get to such a point," he admitted, scratching at the back of his head. "Then again, Griggs had to teach me damn near everything; I didn't even know what 'diameter' meant at the time!" He laughed, electing a small smile from Glynda.

Weiss, too, let out a quiet laugh, one with both relief and frustration in it. Relief that Sibyl had taken so long to get it done, and perhaps frustration that Glynda had done it so quickly. She decided to ease both of their worries. "The shaping process is very similar to my own Semblance, so perhaps that helps."

He nodded, turning his attention to Weiss.

The Schnee Heiress held her catalyst up again, staring at the tip of her catalyst to try and assist visualizing. They could see as the blue energy was slowly molded into shape. A moment later, she attempted to cast Soul Arrow again; it went about a foot before disappearing entirely, the form very different than what was needed.

Sibyl watched her stare in frustration before taking the catalyst from her. "Perhaps you need to see a clearer example. It certainly helped me."

She watched, too, knowing there were many different aspects to learning and it would likely help her as well. He held the catalyst, casting the spell in an instant. She noticed that his was simply… brighter? It was mostly the same shape as hers had been, though it was more clearly defined, went further, and actually _impacted_ against Havel's Shield.

It was just bursting in energy; its impact was greater than what she imagined hers would have been. Weiss requested he cast it again, and he did so, this one an exact replica. It was the difference between what she'd seen of his pyromancy. The fire was much more fluid, and she had observed differing sizes based on his anger and more. Taking a moment to stare as the blue energy dissipated, the young sorcerer handed the catalyst back over to Weiss. She nodded in thanks before turning towards the shield once more, taking a deep breath.

Her next cast was much better in shape, though still a bit off. It _did_ make it remarkably close to Havel's shield, though. Sibyl clapped, impressed. "Marvelous. I suspect you two are much more inclined to this art than I ever was!" It was another surprise about him. She had guessed he might be a bit bitter with how quickly they were coming to it, but he truly did just seem happy. And, if she were honest, she suspected the reason they were learning this faster than he had was due to Vale being a lot more… advanced than wherever he came from.

It was not an indictment against him; he certainly seemed intelligent enough given what he likely had been working with. The next hour went by in peace, Weiss and Glynda slowly perfecting their casts with some guidance from Sibyl, mostly on how to focus their souls in their casts and how to condense it. Both of their Semblances helped in that regard. In the end, after she had more-or-less perfected her cast, Glynda _attempted_ twenty more with Sibyl's one, careful eye watching. He deemed all but two of them just a _bit_ off.

Still, two was enough for him to be mostly happy. Of course, that was _mostly_ happy. She was made to cast it five times in a row with the perfect form before he deemed her to have the basic composition of the spell down.

Weiss was only a few steps away from completing hers, mostly having trouble on forming the blunt tip of the Soul Arrow. Regardless, she had done a splendid job. If she put equal effort into all of her classes, Glynda suspected she would enjoy having the Schnee heiress at Beacon for the next four years.

"That is enough for tonight. Glynda, I would keep practicing your cast until it can be done in under a second. As it stands, you take around seven to simply focus the energies into shape. The same to you, Weiss, after your cast is complete. Feel free to seek me out if you have any questions; once either of you have reached the minimum cast time with proper form, find the other and assist her. When you are both ready, we can begin your next lesson."

It seemed they were dismissed, then. She nodded in thanks, preparing to leave before she remembered something. "Sibyl," she spoke, having been corrected midway through their lesson she didn't have to refer to him as 'mister' all the time. She had extended the same courtesy in response to his Lady _Goodwitch_ addresses. "I believe it would be prudent to unlock your Aura immediately."

Weiss looked between the two, brows scrunched in confusion. "He- he doesn't have his Aura unlocked?"

Sibyl nodded. "I'm afraid so. I never even knew such a thing existed until recently, when Glynda explained it to me."

Yes, she had explained it very briefly… to be frank, he didn't really need to understand what Aura was to take advantage of it.

"Well, if you believe it to be best," was Sibyl's response.

She nodded, moving forward and placing a hand to his chest. She took a deep breath before beginning, "For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee." She could feel her Aura drain rapidly, damn near half of it being what it took to just unlock his Aura.

He smiled softly as the Aura overtook him, a grey hue visible all over his body-

Then he stumbled, catching himself on her and clutching at his eye. She said nothing when he grabbed her wrist, squeezing and damn near breaking it, only stopped by a focus of her Aura. Weiss watched in silence at his struggle. A few seconds passed before Sibyl took a deep breath, releasing Glynda and standing straight. "F-Forgive me. It… flared up, I suppose."

The witch of Beacon couldn't help but frown at those words. "It's fine. Are you fine now?"

He nodded, shaking his head and clearing whatever leftover thoughts were bothering him.

"Yes. Oh, before I forget, I have a request. It's… well, really, it's quite embarrassing," he explained, sheepish, "but I am having trouble reading some of the text within our books. It's nothing too bad – mostly the language is the same as what I learned, but there were a decent amount of words which I have _no_ idea on what they mean."

Glynda hummed thoughtfully, not too surprised. "I would suggest a dictionary." At his confused face, she elaborated. "A dictionary has the definition of words within it. If there is something you do not understand, you can look it up."

He 'oh'd _,_ lips quirking in a smile. "Great! Then I bid the both of you a good night."

As they prepared to leave, the door was thrown open, Yang Xiao Long storming in. She really _did_ have too much in common with her uncle...

"Fireball! C'mon, I need some more help-" The blonde blinked at the sight of both Goodwitch and Weiss. Her demeanor changed near instantly. "Oh. _Oooh,_ Fireball, you were having a good time with these two beauties and _didn't_ invite me!?"

Sibyl groaned, running a palm down his face. "What did I do to deserve this, Velka?" He questioned with a mumble.

Glynda ignored Yang's statement, instead giving a brief nod of her head before leaving through the door. Weiss? She was left a stammering mess, explaining just what they _had_ been doing. It was… amusing, but the proclaimed Witch of Beacon most definitely did not crack a smile as she shut the door. No, certainly not.


	6. Strange Land, Stranger Beings

**_Chapter Six. I hope everyone enjoys. Onto reviews!_**

 ** _With regards to my previous segment on Jaune, I never said I really like Jaune all that much, just that he's a well-defined character. I don't dislike him, either. Sorta my same feelings on Blake, honestly. All I can do in writing is portray them as accurately as I perceive their personality to be, and in that regard, I hope I do well._**

 _ **As for Sibyl's strength relative to the world of Remnant, I won't comment one way or another as it can kill suspense or create a false sense of one. That said, I personally think the level between the two worlds is roughly equal with RWBY having an edge. Though, the difference is humans in RWBY are very strong and most of the "very strong" in Dark Souls are Gods. I think we can all agree the Chosen Undead isn't really stronger than most of the foes he faces.**_

 _ **The husk of Artorias can do repeated frontflip overhead slams twenty feet in the air, but the chosen undead won't be. He does have other things going for him, and I'm buffing him a bit in terms of fluidity of magic/sorceries/pyromancies to balance things out. As you'll see when reading this chapter, there is some foreshadowing in regards to the divergence I have planned soon. I hope I'm doing a good job setting it up.**_

 _ **Read and review or just read, it's your choice!**_ _ **Edit: Thanks to ekaterina016, again, for beta'ing.**_

* * *

For the past two hours or so, Sibyl had done a remarkably good job of ignoring things. He ignored the light shining through his window with a simple shutting of the curtains. He ignored the sound of students bustling around outside his dorm by covering his head with the second pillow he was provided. Yes, Sibyl was sleeping, and he was doing his damnedest to keep it that way.

Unfortunately, such an endeavor was filled with obstacles even he couldn't overcome. There was a knock on his door, followed by another and one more after that. It was the only reason his eyes bothered to open, and even then, they nearly closed right back shut again. When a fourth knock tapped against the wooden panel which separated him from the outside world, he sighed softly, digging his head deeper into the pillow it was laying atop. It couldn't be _that_ important, could it? Certainly not more than his sleep, which he had gotten more than he ever had before thanks to the wondrous mattress beneath him.

And it was so wonderful. Even his less-than-pleasant dreams, previously a soul a dozen, had stopped bothering him... albeit for just two and a half weeks. It was actually strange; he had been here for so long, yet the time had flown by! Classes were so very odd, and in truth, he hardly knew what he was doing. They had given him a scroll, some odd, supposedly crucial device which he had tucked under his bed the moment he received it.

Outside of that, his schedule had turned more solid. They had classes five days a week, which varied heavily, with combat class twice a week much like most of the other academies had. Glynda had explained to him they would be… looser with his learning responsibilities, but he was still doing his best to keep up with those around him. It was just _hard,_ and he was mostly failing. Still, he longed for combat class, where he could let his skills thrive! In fact, Sibyl was fairly certain today was combat class, and seeing as how he had completely missed his first class, not been called upon to duel in his second class, _overslept_ his third class _and_ his fourth class, he longed to be on time and get called upon today. He had plenty of time to get there, so it was no worry. Probably.

Regardless of all the more complex intricacies this place had, he was grateful and very much enjoying his new bed. The kink in his lower back which was damn near constantly there since his awakening in the asylum had even begun to fade. He simply felt _better._

It made him wonder just what else he had been missing in Lordran. This place had showers, the steaming water feeling better against his skin than even a divine blessing, and now, he discovered they had beds this comfortable? He was in the great thereafter, and it was far better than anything he had ever imagined. Sure, the people made no sense – absolutely none – but everything else? It was as perfect as anything could be.

"Sibyl? Are you awake?"

It was the soft voice of Pyrrha which came calling through his door. He took a moment to debate whether or not to answer. Would the redhead drag him out of his own slice of heaven, forcing him to go to some insufferable class? Or would she understand that, after all this time, he had finally found peace, and it was the bed he laid upon.

"Oh, c'mon P-Money! Fireball's a lazy bum; you gotta' be firm with him."

Gods above, not Yang. Whimpering quietly, Sibyl tried to force his head to burrow further into the pillow. Maybe they would go away… oh, who was he kidding. Yang wouldn't just go away.

"Fireball!" Yang pounded on his door repeatedly and without pause, "Get up!"

Sighing softly, he whispered a sweet goodbye to his pillow. It would miss him, and he would miss her, but they'd reunite again tonight. Taking a deep breath, he finally responded to the annoyance he had been forced to call a student for two weeks. "I am up, Yang. Please stop your Velka-damned knocking."

The blonde vixen, without warning, invited herself into _his_ room, barging in.

He frowned. Pyrrha followed in behind her and much more hesitantly. He appreciated she at least had _some_ respect for his privacy.

"You know, Fireball, Miss G is _sooo_ mad at you."

Blinking, Sibyl tried to figure out just who this 'Miss G'Yang spoke of was. Hmm… Goodwitch, perhaps? It made the most sense. He knew of no others who would match. Yang's peculiar nicknaming methods continued to confuse him.

"She… she was a bit miffed," Pyrrha admitted, a small smile on her face. He decided to believe it was Glynda they were speaking of. It would make things easier. "I just can't believe it – you, sleeping in and missing combat class, _again?"_

Mouth opened to dismiss Yang's words, his jaw was left unhinged when he realized just what she said. "What? Nonsense. Glynda was very clear to me to not be late again; I still have... err," How long _did_ he have to get to class? His eyes moved over to the broken, digital clock which had been explained to him earlier in the week. Of course, he never quite figured out how to _turn it on._

Yang nodded, slapping him on the back and doing a remarkable job of waking him up. "Exactly! You were supposed to fight Ruby. She was so upset when you weren't there." Yang put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing hard enough even _he_ could feel a bit of pain. "Miss G agreed to just have you two be the final combatants today. You're not going to disappoint my little sister, are you?"

He coughed lightly, removing Yang's hand from his shoulder carefully and meeting her deadly stare down with his own eye. "Of course not. I'll get dressed at once."

"Sibyl?" Pyrrha questioned, drawing his attention, "Did you draw these?"

He blinked, turning to look at the redhead. She was holding his makeshift artbook, something he had left open on his desk the night before. The page being shown was his more recent attempt: one of Sif. The undead had something of an exceptional memory, so he had taken to drawing the not-so-small pup. For some reason, he could even imagine the white wolf full grown, his fur turned grey. That would make a good sketch at a later date, but for now, his drawing of a much smaller Sif was mostly done.

The pencils this place offered were remarkably useful and made drawing a lot easier than the charcoal he had sharpened to a fine point. He was even thinking of copying all he had worked on to a new artbook, _that_ was how good they were to use.

"Wow, Fireball. These are really good," Yang observed, taking his artbook and flipping through some of the pages.

"Really? You think so? I always find them lacking in… something."

It was hard to place just what they were lacking in, just that they _were._

"No, they're quite good. Do you mind if we look through some of the others?"

He shrugged at Pyrrha's question, hardly caring. "It is of no bother to me, just do be careful with it."

Yang and Pyrrha both nodded, dismissing themselves to the hallway so he could get properly dressed.

Stiffling a yawn, he barely even thought about it as he began removing his gold-hemmed robe, the process taking only a few moments. His mind was focused on the eager opponent he would be facing: Ruby Rose. Hmm, if he was going to fight Ruby, then perhaps a change of attire was in order. She seemed like a fragile opponent, though quick. It was something which was rather difficult to deal with, given his larger weapons.

Sure, if he got a hit in, the duel would end quickly, but getting those hits in were always difficult. No, he wouldn't use anything too unwieldy for this duel. Instead, he would use Quelaag's Furysword, a weapon forged from her very own soul. As always, his left hand would be kept open; the versatility and surprise factor of his miracles, pyromancy, and sorceries could never be made up by a mere shield. As for his armor, something light would be ideal.

He settled on the same wear Patches preferred, a black-leather set complete with an iron plate on his shoulder. It came with a hood and mask, too. The only thing he didn't wear was a glove on his left hand, as it made casting pyromancies marginally more difficult and unnatural. It took some time, but he was eventually fully dressed and ready to show everyone he could do more than just swing around hunks of metal.

Sibyl would not disappoint an eager Ruby.

Exiting his dorm, he found Pyrrha and Yang still going through his sketches. He coughed, getting their attention a moment thereafter.

His blonde student didn't even wait a second to speak. "Fireball, you gotta' let us show these to everyone else! They're freakin' amazing." Pyrrha nodded in agreement. Sibyl stroked his chin, considering the offer.

The drawings were special to him, but not so special as, say, Solaire's talisman which he dared to call his own. In the end, they were but drawing; they paled in comparison to the memories they were based off. If Yang sought to show them off, he had no real issues with it. "I suppose I don't mind."

Yang cheered, slapping him on the back, "That's the spirit!"

Pyrrha hummed softly, still looking at one of his drawings. "Did you come up with these, or are they based on someone?" She was looking at a sketch of a fully armored Siegmeyer, sitting in front of Sen's Fortress's closed gate, his trusty shield and Zweihander lying beside him.

That large, lengthy sword and height were the only differences one could tell between him and his daughter, Sieglinde. "All are based on someone or something. That one in particular is of an old friend, Siegmeyer. He was quite the knight, if a bit rotund." He couldn't stop himself from chuckling, memories of the plump, onion-looking knight brought to the front of his mind.

"I see," Pyrrha commented, still staring at his sketch.

Sibyl decided to elaborate a bit more as they continued to walk, Yang on the other side of him opposite Pyrrha. "He was an adventurer, always going here and there, never staying in one place. Though, I suppose he found time to start a family long before I met him."

"Wait, he just… left his wife and daughter?" Yang questioned, seemingly a bit too offended at the prospect.

"At some point, yes. His wife had already passed by the time I met his daughter, Sieglinde, who made the venture to Lordran to deliver her mother's final words. She was well–trained, from what I saw. She even wore the same armor and wielded the same shield as her father, both a standard throughout Catarina, though she did prefer a bastard sword to his Zweihander."

"Catarina? Is that another sort of Badlands village?" Pyrrha questioned, and Sibyl quietly thanked the gods she had made up a self-explanation for it, so he wouldn't have to.

"Indeed, it is."

The redheaded Mistral champion nodded, humming as she turned to the next page of his artbook. Was lying really so easy? He'd never engaged in it until he arrived here.

He'd try to refrain from lying too much, however. It made him feel sick.

* * *

"How nice of you to show up, Mr. Sibyl," Glynda spoke, a quiet fury in her voice which the undead likened to Quelana, "Seeing as how you missed the first time I explained it, _as well as_ both of last week's classes, I will take a moment to explain the rules. _Again._ "

Yes, Glynda had quite a lot in common with Quelana. She'd never been a particularly lenient mentor either, a far cry from Laurentius. Then again, he had saved one of them from being eaten alive. Perhaps that had something to do with their different attitudes?

As Glynda explained the rules, something about when their Aura, measured by a green bar on another one of those odd screens, reached red, the duel was over. It was simple enough, and to be frank, he was just ready to _start_ their fight. Ruby was equally eager, fidgeting in place with her oversized scythe resting against the ground.

Twirling Quelaag's Furysword, he watched as the threads of red were left in the air briefly before dissipating. Ruby nearly squealed in delight at the sight, electing a small chuckle from him. He really ought to show her his full collection, but then again, she might fall dead from the sight! Lords knew Shiva had; Sibyl fought off attempts to buy his many different weapons every time he encountered the Forest Hunter captain after that event.

"Fight well, young Rose."

It had been so long since he engaged in a friendly duel, the last one he recalled being with Solaire before his bout of insanity. They had dueled amidst the ruins of Izalith. The Chosen Undead had only offered to try and get his dear friend out of his funk. It was his last cherished memory with his companion before… well, before things changed.

Ruby smiled with a nod before speaking, inadvertently forcing the depressing thoughts out from his mind, "You too!"

Giving one final glance towards Glynda, his blonde student _and_ teacher nodded.

"Begin!"

Ruby didn't waste a single second, shooting at him in a blur which would have made Ornstein proud. Sibyl slid his foot back, waiting for Ruby to close the distance before slashing horizontally, shifting the swing of his blade into a backwards cartwheel which allowed him to avoid Ruby's attempt to sweep out his feet, his hand coming down right after the blade had passed.

She slid right past him, and he rolled to the side on instinct alone before she fired _something_ at him. He really needed to figure out what in Izalith it was, because it flew by far too fast to be an arrow. Still, a fight was no real time to be mulling on such things. Charging at her, he brought his blade upwards to guard against her scythe, not bothering to block the kick she threw at his chest.

Or, well, he had expected it to be a kick with the intent to _hurt_ him. Instead, she kicked _off_ his chest, creating much needed distance between the two of them as she landed, scythe already behind her, angled at around her hip-level. It was simply marvelous; he had never seen someone so mobile! Ornstein had been _fast_ when it suited him, but nothing like what he had just witnessed Ruby do. The undead grinned, grabbing his weapon with two hands as a laugh forced its way out of his throat.

"Yes! Be relentless, young Rose!"

She charged at him in another blur, scythe overhead. Just as suddenly as she charged, she stopped, slashing twice in such quick succession one might have even been able to see the blur her weapon left behind as an 'X' _._ He stepped back and managed to dodge both rapid slices, but they _did_ snag a bit of leather off his chest. Still, he moved forward again, bringing his blade along the ground and up at her face.

She redirected his attack with the pole of her scythe, but by that time, he had already removed his second hand from the hilt. Palm open and pointing at her stomach, he allowed fire to simply _expel_ from his hand, the cast of Fire Surge catching her by complete surprise.

With a wide, sweeping swing of her scythe, she managed to get away from his constant stream of fire within a second. He allowed the flame to stop, taking a moment to circle Ruby as she did the same to him.

"Pretty sneaky there!" She commented, smiling eagerly.

Good; nothing was as fun as a good duel.

"Your skill with that scythe and incredible speed has me in something akin to awe," Pausing, he let the words settle, "but you've yet to blossom." Channeling his pyromancy internally, he exhaled _,_ a purple mist coming out from his mouth like smoke from a chimney. He got to see Ruby flinch back before not only hers, but his own view was completely obscured by the purple dew.

Ruby would likely be afraid to go anywhere near the purple mist. He was not.

Sprinting into it, he grabbed the talisman at his hip. A silent prayer left his lips as a lightning bolt formed, the sound quite distinctive in both its forming and continued existence. He heard whispers from all around, quickly tuning them out as he listened for his target. It wasn't much, and truth be told, he was impressed Ruby didn't say anything in response to the cackling of his lightning bolt. Some of his past foes would curse or gasp, but not her.

His opponent did make one crucial mistake, however. She reloaded whatever projectile her scythe shot. It wasn't much, and the only reason he managed to pinpoint her location was thanks to Solaire's… peculiar training methods. Countless hours spent with his eyes wrapped, forced to hit Solaire's shield with his bolts as the sunlight knight would stomp on the ground precisely once. If Sibyl failed, well… he got a shield thrown at his shins.

Ignoring his sudden sluggishness as he could finally feel the poison infect him, he tossed the lightning bolt from his hand with no small amount of force. He was already rushing out of the purple mist he had created when he heard the cry of surprise and pain. The undead was upon a stunned Ruby in an instant, and she only just managed to react to his sideways slash, managing to limit it to a glancing blow.

The scythe-wielder was not so lucky with the two strikes which followed. Her Aura protected her, or else he would have ended the duel right then. His strikes caused pain and somedamage, but it was heavily limited, far more so than even the best armor could provide. Aura really _was_ a blessing.

She spun her scythe to try and block his continued assault, mostly succeeding. 'Mostly', because it forced him to quickly conjure Iron Flesh as he continued to slash wildly, losing his form due to the focus such a cast required. As soon as the cast took effect, he reached forward with his offhand, her whirlwind of steel slamming against it. Rather than battering his hand away like she seemed to expect, it just _stopped_ with a loud 'clang'.

He saw her eyes widened the moment it happened, and watched as they were drawn down to the iron sheen which was covering his hand. The duel effectively ended right then and there. Gripping the pole of her scythe with the same hand which had stopped it, the undead pulled, Ruby stubbornly refusing to let go. It was her final mistake; he slammed his head against hers before letting go of her scythe and snatching her wrist within his much larger hand.

Twisting, he brought her much smaller body into his own, getting a good grip under her throat with his forearm at the same time.

"Match!" Glynda called, and Sibyl didn't waste a second to let go of Ruby, the girl falling forward onto her knees and panting. He wasn't surprised by that; she didn't strike him as a well-conditioned fighter. She was likely used to winning, and winning quickly.

Their bespectacled instructor gave the younger girl a chance to breathe before speaking "Excellent performance, both of you."

Sibyl nodded in appreciation at the words, reaching a hand to help Ruby up. She took it gracefully, still breathing a bit hard, but smiling.

The smile turned to a confused frown when she felt his hand. "How… how is your hand so hard? It feels like iron!"

He rose an amused eyebrow. "That's because my skin _is_ covered by iron. It's a pyromancy cast, young Rose."

The girl 'oh'd _,_ squinting at his hand before poking the middle of his palm with a single finger.

Glynda cleared her throat, electing an 'eep'from the young girl. "Miss Rose, where do you think you went wrong?"

The girl in question closed her eyes, thinking hard in response to the inquiry. "I… I reloaded when he was in the shroud, ya' know, because I was going to try a few blind shots, but it just gave me away. Then he threw that lightning-thingy."

Quite the eloquent explanation, but all the important details were correct.

"Precisely. You're very skilled – Qrow saw to that – but you _must_ have a plan opposed to always reacting. The moment you let Sibyl set the pace of this duel, you lost."

The girl nodded solemnly at Goodwitch's words. He gave her a solid clap on the back to try and cheer her up, not realizing the effects of Iron Flesh had yet to die out.

She slammed into the ground hard, and he flinched. "Terribly sorry, young Rose. I forgot the effects of Iron Flesh can take some time to dissipate."

"Ish fane,"was her mumbled response, face still against the floor.

Sibyl made to apologize again, but instead coughed with bit of blood expelling itself onto his lips. Oh. How silly, he only just remembered he was in fact _poisoned._ Right, that seemed a prudent detail to not forget. Reaching for his catalyst, he wasted no time to cast Remedy and cleanse his lungs. It was another crisis averted.

"…Mr. Sibyl, just _what_ was that purple mist you went into?"

Rubbing the blood away from his lips, he turned his gaze to Glynda's curious and somewhat fearful green eyes. "Poison, of course."

His instructor sighed softly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I trust whatever you did just… cured it?"

He nodded and _swore_ Glynda muttered something foul under her breath.

"Yes, well… I suppose I can't reprimand you _too_ harshly for going inside a cloud of _poison mist,_ given you had a cure and it resulted in a quick end to the fight. Just… do be cautious."

He shrugged off her words, helping Ruby back to her feet once more. "Oh, not to worry, Glynda. I've done it more times than I care to count."

She shook her head slowly. "That's what I was afraid of. Class is dismissed."

Turning to Ruby, Sibyl was much more careful in giving her a congratulation. He hardly wanted her to eat dirt again. "You truly are exceptional, young Rose. It was a fine duel."

She blushed, averting her eyes from his own and instead focusing on the ground. "Ooh, it was nothing; really, you were the amazing one!"

Waving off her words, he guided the both of them back over to her team who stood beside the members of JNPR. "The only thing I have over you is experience. In time, I'm sure you'll eclipse me."

Sibyl scarcely had time to duck beneath Yang's grasp as the blonde tried to grab both himself and Ruby into some sort of hug. Ruby, unfortunately, failed to dodge. She was left taking the full brunt of Yang's bear-hug. The blonde sister started babbling about how impressive Ruby was; Sibyl quickly tuned it out.

"That was incredible," Pyrhha said, capturing his attention. He rubbed the back of his head at the redheaded warrior's words.

"I hardly think so. Really, compared to Ruby's speed and agility, I find myself rather lacking."

"Nonsense," Weiss interrupted, arms crossed in front of her, "what you lack in speed, you more than make up for in recklessness."

The undead didn't say anything in response for a few moments. Was this one of those worded traps the women he had met were oh-so-fond of? "...thank you," he eventually settled for.

Weiss exploded immediately, and he realized that yes, it had been a trap. " _'Thank you'_?! No, you imbecile! You _poisoned_ yourself just to win a duel! Do you have any idea the damage that can do, even if you had the cure?! Blood came out when you coughed, you idiotic oaf!"

He shrugged off her scathing statement. "Really, Weiss, you worry far too much. That was the much weaker poison pyromancy cast of the two I know. Even I wouldn't go into a cloud of Toxic Mist except in the direst of circumstances." He'd only gone into his own Toxic Mist cloud once and nearly found himself dead for it. No, only the purple poison cloud was the one he dared to regularly use to mask his sorcery and miracle casts.

"...I'm surrounded by idiots," Weiss mumbled, running a palm down her face.

He prepared to respond, before Pyrrha interrupted, voice curious. "Anyways! What was that yellow bolt you threw? Was... was that actual lightning?"

Sibyl chuckled, reaching for the talisman at his hip. He showed it around briefly before raising his hand, conjuring the Great Lightning Bolt with but an internal prayer. Everyone stared in awe, and he hardly blamed them; the lightning bolt was perhaps the most... heroic-looking of all his abilities.

He prepared to explain the intricacies behind it, seeing the expressions on Yang and Weiss-

"Teach me!" Nora yelled, suddenly in his face and shaking him out of what thoughts he had, "Please! I'll share my pancakes with you, but not all of them, just some. Maybe."

Sibyl blinked at the orange-haired wonder whom he hardly even _knew._ It was a bold approach to trying to get him to teach her anything, one which utterly failed. "With respect, Lady Valkyrie, these miracles are... well, they're for Warriors of Sunlight. Unlike pyromancy and sorcery, they are not something widespread in use, something all are entitled to use. They're far more prestigious."

The girl opened her mouth to whine, but Ren squeezed her shoulder and shook his head slowly. Nora deflated visibly, head hung low. Sibyl grimaced lightly; he took no joy in declining the offer, but... "I truly am sorry, Lady Valkyrie, but one must prove themselves worthy long before I'd ever offer to teach such miracles."

She lost some of her gloom, face getting thoughtful. "So, I just have to prove myself worthy?" He hesitantly nodded. He didn't want to get her hopes up, after all. "Then I'll just train harder than ever!" Nora exclaimed, pausing to turn to her partner in crime, "Renny, be ready to double my morning pancakes- no, triple it! Gonna' need lots of fuel. Lots."

Ren seemed less than thrilled at the prospect, and Sibyl hardly blamed him. He had watched the orange-haired girl absolutely devour those pancakes, the stacks on her plate sometimes being taller than she herself was! Still, he was more concerned with what the girl in front of him had taken and run with. So much for not getting her enthused...

Well, who knew what would happen? Perhaps Nora would prove herself worthy. It wasn't up to him to choose, really; the choice would always lay with the sun and Gwyn above. He was merely an extension. He would _feel_ when someone was worthy.

"Anyways," Yang interrupted, finally done suffocating her sister between her bosom, "let's go get lunch!"

Sibyl hummed, nodding at the suggestion. "As good an option as any, I suppose."

* * *

The lunch they were undertaking together as one large group had turned into something of a bonfire tale, though per usual, he was the only one sharing. It had begun when Yang started showing off his drawings; with a curious question by Pyrrha, Sibyl was left weaving stories and legends he had taken time to capture in ink, either from memory or sight. It was actually quite enjoyable, and his audience was respectfully curious. He'd already spoken on Ciaran, the Lord's Blade, as well as his early sorcery mentor, Griggs.

He ignored questions which delved on his drawing of demons and dragons, simply saying they were his imagination.

As Yang turned another page from his artbook and a sketch of the Darkmoon Knightress was displayed, he couldn't help but smile in appreciation. "That was a woman who was truly after my heart."

Ruby sat forward in her seat, resting her head between her hands as those silver eyes of hers sparkled. "Wow, really?"

Sibyl nodded, leaning back and stroking his chin. "Yes. I wouldn't have ever joined the cult she was a part of if not to impress her."

Blake rose an eyebrow at his statement. "You joined a _cult_ just to impress a girl?"

He didn't hesitate to nod in response. "Absolutely. She was more than _just_ a girl, however. She was incredible, impeccable! Her skill with an estoc left me breathless, not to mention her voice which soothed my soul even more than a divine blessing." Really, she had been amazing. A welcome sight when he first arrived in Anor Londo, certainly, and a joyous sight every time thereafter.

"Well? What did she look out without the helmet?" Yang questioned, resting halfway on the table in front of her.

"Truthfully? I don't know. She claimed to be malformed beneath it, but there is much more to a woman than looks, I believe."

Weiss couldn't help but be skeptical at his words, "Really? You tried to form a relationship with someone you'd never even seen the _face_ of?"

The Chosen Undead didn't understand why that sounded so unbelievable. Sure, Weiss was the only one who voiced the thought, but everyone else at the table had a face of disbelief. "Why? Is that considered odd?"

Pyrhha cleared her throat, and his eye naturally went over to her. "I think its sweet. Most men are vainer than you seem to be."

He wasn't too sure what to make of the claim, so he elected to just continue with his story. "Yes, well... it didn't exactly work out." Coughing lightly, Sibyl could feel his cheeks heat up. "She got quite miffed I kept _staring_ at her while we were on hunts rather than assisting her." He closed his good eye in bliss. "She put her parrying dagger to my tenders and just _stared_ at me through her visor, an unspoken threat if there ever was one." Sibyl sighed, reopening his eye and breathing softly. "Ah, what a woman..."

Yang whistled, lips upturned in a smirk. "Into the, uh... dominant type there, Fireball?"

His head swung side to side lightly as he considered the question. "I... I do prefer a degree of brazen confidence in women, yes, though I once entertained thoughts with a much meeker woman. I was somewhat of a mess at the time, a bit after Laurentius had-"

 _His face, usually full and lively, was bony and wrinkled. Laurentius didn't stutter through his words in that nervous tick of his; in fact, he didn't speak at all. Instead, his mentor moaned, looking at him with dead, hollowed eyes which wanted only one thing: his humanity. Sibyl had seen the look a thousand times, and now, he saw it once more amidst the swamp of Blight Town. It had never felt so personal._

 _"No, no," the Chosen Undead mumbled, eyes wide as the grip he had on his longsword tightened, "Stop, Laurentius! Overcome the madness that has gripped you!"_

 _His friend and mentor didn't stop. No, he conjured a fireball, and Sibyl screamed as-_

His hand instantly rose to his patch covered eye, which was _burning_ insufferably! He hissed in pain, slamming a hand against the table in front of him which nearly broke it in half. It took a few moments, and he was left panting for breath as his ears rung. What had that even been? He'd had haunted memories in the past, yes, but they were never so vivid! It had to be the damnable infection on his eye, much like most of his issues could be traced to. Sibyl finally got control of himself and with a deep breath, removing his clenched fist from the table.

Everyone at the table was quiet and staring at him with varying expressions.

"...forgive me. I didn't mean for-" He tried to explain, but Weiss quickly cut him off before he could even finish speaking.

"It's fine. Now, what were you saying about the Knightress?" He gave the Heiress a long gaze, softening his eyes and inclining his head lightly.

"Yes. Right, well, our relationship never developed. The duties we had were far too different and drew us apart long before anything could form. She was a Fire Keeper, and I was-"

"Wait, what did you say?" Blake questioned, suddenly alert and in fact _standing_.

Sibyl stared at her in confusion, raising his single, visible brow. "I said she was a Fire Keeper."

The bow-wearing girl spared a glance around, the attention of the table which had previously been centered on him now on her. Slowly, she returned to her sitting position. "I was... I was just wondering what a Fire Keeper _was._ It sounds important."

Ignoring the oddity of those around him, Sibyl nodded his head. "Indeed, it is important. Many would consider being a Fire Keeper an honor, but I always saw past the honey-laced words and title. They are unwilling servants, forced to..."

Pausing halfway through his explanation, the last sunlight warrior _heard_ something. It wasn't much, but it was enough to draw his attention to the side.

There were four boys, of whom he only recognized thanks to the ceremony after initiation. That in and of itself was of little notice, however, they were doing something to _someone._ He knew the girl to be a Faunus, the word he had looked up last night after a late trip to the library and the retrieval of a dictionary. It was obvious by the large rabbit ears atop her head, which were currently being _pulled._

"Atrocious," Pyrrha exclaimed, electing nods from those around him, but no actions.

"Yeah, that Cardin guy's a real piece of work. Hasn't he been messing with you, Jaune?"

The blond, who had been remarkably quiet most of the lunch, finally looked up from his meal at Yang's question. "What? Nah, he's just..."

Sibyl was confounded. Why was no one doing anything? Pyrrha herself had already called their actions atrocious, yet she continued to eat, albeit with a foul expression. Sibyl felt his face fall flat, reminded by the actions of those around him of a story he once heard.

 _"They dragged me through the gates, my friends and family watching," Solaire explained, laughing softly and weakly, "I thought one of them would step up, say some protests, but... they simply watched and averted their eyes whenever I bothered to stare back." The sunlight warrior shook his head with a smile, "But it hardly matters. I've found myself a new brother, as it were. Haha!"_

If those at the table beside him would ignore such an obvious injustice, what would they do if he was discovered to be an undead and put away for it? Would they do the same as Solaire's Astoran family or would they act? Judging by their immediate reactions, he was forced to assume they'd avert their eyes.

He paid the conversations around him no more attention, standing up from his seat and trying to stop his abyss covered eye from acting out, because he was _angry._

Sibyl could hear them as he got closer, _laughing_ and mocking the girl. They claimed her a freak, an animal. Why? Because of a pair of ears atop her head? They weren't as dangerous as an undead, who were always at risk of hollowing and _killing_ people, from strangers to family. At least the disillusion people had with the undead made _some_ degree of sense, but this? Mocking her simply because she was different? It reminded him of the dragon girl he found in the Painted World, Priscilla.

He decided then to show them what a _real_ animal behaved like.

The leader and biggest of them barely had time to look aside before Sibyl grabbed him by his breastplate, lifting the poor fool off from his seat and _slamming_ him into the ground below, denting the floor. As the other three stooges instantly converged on him, he grabbed the talisman at his hip and muttered the prayer for Wrath of the Gods. The three attempting to dogpile atop of him were launched back with the expanding white force, while Cardin beneath him simply went _further_ into the ground below. His Aura would keep him alive, so Sibyl didn't really care how much damage he did.

Sibyl leaned in close, his eye inches away from Cardin's own.

"Tell me, what would you do? Would you force her and all like her to live in isolation in some desolate land, caged and imprisoned simply so you can feel _comfortable_?" Cardin, dazed and confused, gave some vague attempt to force Sibyl off. The undead laughed, standing up and sneering at the boy beneath him. "You disgust me. All of you!" He wasn't speaking _just_ to the group which had committed the act he had just stopped. No, he turned and glanced around the whole lunchroom, from those he had previously been eating with to those who he didn't even _know._ "You come here to be humanity's protectors, yet not one dared to _act_ against these fools.

"Why? Because they are peers? Because you don't _know_ the girl they act out against!? Or perhaps because she's a Faunus, and you are a selfish bastard incapable of even an _ounce_ of empathy." Sibyl took a deep breath, shaking his head quietly as he turned his gaze to the rabbit-eared girl who was looking at him with fear and confusion. "Make a stand for yourself, because as you see yourself, those around rarely will. These weaklings would hardly be a challenge; I'd know."

Sibyl heard the punch heading for the back of his head the moment it was thrown. Ducking aside, he grabbed Cardin's extended arm and leaned forward, throwing the idiot over his shoulder and onto the ground in front of him.

Staring with his one good eye, he scowled. "If I ever see you do something even remotely similar to what you did to this girl, I _will_ kill you. Am I understood?" The student was left wheezing for breath, but muttered out a 'fuck you' in spite of that. Sibyl dismissed himself, shaking his head and turning to stare at the table of people he almost dared to call friends.

He was disgusted.

* * *

"...that went poorly," Weiss muttered as Sibyl left the lunchroom, barely able to stop himself from punching a hole through the damn door he opened. Yang thought the heiress's words were about as big of an understatement possible. That was _way_ worse than poorly.

"He's right, though," It was her little sister who spoke, staring at the table with somewhat wet eyes. "Why are we here if we're just going to allow people like Cardin to act like that? It's not right!"

The blonde sighed, setting her fork down. She wasn't hungry anymore.

"We... we did just watch," Pyrrha conceded softly, "By doing nothing, we condoned their actions."

Weiss shook her head and crossed her arms, "While I agree what Cardin was doing deserved punishment, it's none of our business. We shouldn't _have_ to interfere."

Ren, usually quiet, finally spoke. "Then when does it _become_ our business?"

The Heiress opened her mouth to respond but paused. It seemed she didn't have a good answer.

Yang didn't have one either. When _did_ it become their business? When it was someone they knew? Yang knew if Cardin had touched a hair on Ruby's head, she wouldn't have hesitated to break every bone in the bully's body.

"...Fireball's right," Yang observed, tapping her fingers against the table in front of her, "If that was you, Ruby, I wouldn't have hesitated to go and punch Cardin through a wall." She slammed her other fist down onto the table, breathing heavy as her hair lit up. "But we didn't know that girl, did we? That's why we _watched_. Gah!"

The blonde was beyond mad at herself. Was she really one of _those_ people? She always told herself she'd do something, but she'd just sat and watched until Sibyl went and _did_ something about it. What if she had done something like that in the past? She couldn't remember, but she might not have even remembered today if Sibyl hadn't done something to stop it.

"Do you think it's something more... personal to Sibyl?"

Everyone at the table spared a look at Pyrrha after her question. "What? You think he's a Faunus?" Weiss questioned, electing a shrug from the Mistral Champion.

"I don't know. It's possible? We really don't know all that much about him," the redhead answered.

Yang opened her mouth to say more when Blake suddenly stood up. "I'm going to go talk to him." She didn't give any of them a chance to follow, already walking away.

Yang hummed silently. "We gotta' make it up to him," she thought aloud, electing nods from still at the table.

"But how?" Ruby asked, and Yang had to admit; it was a good question.

"Sibyl seems to be... practical. I think a simple apology would suffice," Weiss said, and Yang was inclined to agree. Still, she didn't just want his forgiveness. She wanted to make it up to him.

Slowly, she conjured a flame in her hand, staring at it for a few moments before dismissing it herself. She could hold it for around a minute before it faded now, and she was pretty sure that was more out of boredom if anything. He was teaching Weiss, too, and might even teach some of the others on how to do something as amazing as how to throw lightning bolts.

They'd figure something out to make it up to him. They had to.

* * *

Of all whom Sibyl expected might attempt to follow his trail up to the very rooftop he had taken to pacing around on rapidly and angrily, Blake was not on the list. He had figured perhaps Pyrrha or Yang would chase after him to try and calm his rage, but not the black-haired girl whom he hardly had undertaken more than a passing conversation with since initiation. It was enough to cause him pause in his frantic pacing when she came through the same door he had, steps subdued and quiet.

"What? Have you come to reprimand my actions?" He asked, hissing.

Blake shook her head slowly, opening her mouth, but closing it promptly. The undead scoffed.

"Then why did you follow me up here?" Sibyl questioned, crossing his arms in front of him "I'd much prefer to be kept in solitary, if I'm honest-"

"You're right," Blake said, stopping whatever rambling explanation he had been ready to explain. "We should have done something; _I_ should have done something," she paused, averting her eyes from his own. "Especially because I'm always talking about how Faunus are treated poorly. I just didn't want the attention _doing_ something would cause." She took a deep breath, her eyes rising to meet his own single grey one. They were a beautiful amber, now that he bothered to notice.

"So, I'm sorry. And thank you for doing something when we wouldn't."

He hadn't exactly expected anything she just said to be _what_ she said, so he simply nodded lightly, moving over to the edge of the roof he stood upon and taking a seat on the ledge. Blake slowly made to sit next to him, but Sibyl paid it no mind, instead turning his gaze to the sun above. It was as beautiful here as it was back in Lordran.

"I am fond of many people, Blake. But I do not like _the_ people." He gripped the ledge beneath his bottom, nearly breaking the stone with the force. "They're selfish," he began, slowly loosening the pressure of his grip, "unable to put themselves in another's boots. They'd rather be rid of us all than understand our plight." Sibyl couldn't say his words came from experience, not his own. But he had heard stories, from Patches to Siegmeyer on how they had been treated when the dark sign branded them.

Ousted and abandoned by lovers, family, and friends, not to mention kingdom and city folk whom once spoke with them kindly. Status didn't matter; Laurentius had been treated much the same as Logan had been. Sure, Logan hadn't been cursed out of town or imprisoned, simply because no fool was dumb enough to _try,_ but behind his back, they talked. Oh, they talked. And Laurentius? He was nearly burnt alive by his fellow pyromancers before he managed to leave. Siegmeyer's very own wife had told him to leave, in tears or not.

And yet, he couldn't imagine a finer group than those undead. Well, except for Patches. He could imagine quite a few fellows better than Patches.

"...I understand. Really, I do," Blake explained, slowly reaching a hand up to the bow atop her head. Sibyl was quite confounded when she slowly removed it, and blinked at the sight revealed when it was gone. Blake was a Faunus, complete with cat ears. "We're... we're both Faunus, so if you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm here."

Wait? Why did she think him a Faunus? Regardless of the why, Sibyl coughed lightly, feeling his face turn red as he prepared to correct her mistake.

"I'm... I'm afraid you misread me, Blake. I am no Faunus."

She was silent after his words, looking at him with a hundred-yard stare. He truly did feel bad; Blake was trying to hide her Faunus heritage, perhaps to avoid what Cardin had been doing to the rabbit-eared girl. It wasn't much different then how he was hiding his dark sign branding, and yet, she had revealed it to him in some attempt to comfort. "Y-You're not a Faunus?" She stuttered, eyes wide like... well, like a cat, "But you said we!"

He averted his gaze, sighing softly. "I'm cursed. Being a Faunus would be a blessing, really. I can only imagine how good your hearing is," Sibyl assured, turning back to Blake. She looked mad at his claim, perhaps thinking his claim of being a Faunus to be a 'blessing'insulting. "I won't tell anyone what you revealed to me."

She didn't seem so reassured by his words. Sibyl slowly pulled down the cloth around his neck, revealing his imprinted, orange dark sign which stayed at the base of his neck. He could reveal this without much issue, honestly. If this place had no idea as to what an undead was, he could simply claim Blake insane if she tried to tell anyone.

It wasn't as if he took any real shame in being an undead, either. How could he when the finest people he'd ever met were also undead? It was just... if they understood what could happen to him, that he could snap and hollow at any moment, really, they would be cautious and fearful. Though, perhaps not as much so as back home. Undead had been a dime a dozen, making the threat of hollowing far harsher. Just one undead hollowing was hardly an issue, but when thousands turned, it quickly became a dire problem.

In the end, if sharing his secret would bring her comfort and stop her worrying he might reveal _her_ secret, he would do so. She had revealed her ears to try and calm him down, so he was simply repaying the favor. "...what I am is not as simple as having an extra pair of ears. Since you revealed your secret, I suppose it's only fitting I show mine."

Touching a single finger against his dark sign, it glowed brightly. He felt his skin, flushed with blood and alive, wrinkle and grow thin. Blake gasped, leaning back away from him in confusion and fear. It hurt, but he hardly blamed her. An undead was quite the disturbing sight when not masquerading as a normal being. "I am cursed with the Dark Sign. It is destined to one day leave me little more than a frothing corpse, desperate to tear apart any and all who came near me, friends or not."

She tried to meet his eyes but shivered and looked away. He allowed his curse to fade, his skin returning to its much livelier state. "I somewhat understand the plight of you Faunus. They have no reason to fear you as they did us, yet they do."

Blake didn't say anything, still seemingly shaken by his transformation.

He decided she needed time to process what he had revealed. "I shall keep your secret, and I do hope you will keep mine." Blake wasn't so uncomfortable anymore, and she shook away whatever haunted thoughts floated within her mind. He decided a change of subject was order. "If you're still curious, I'll explain what a Fire Keeper is in more detail at a later date."

It seemed to be what she needed to hear, as her still wide eyes slowly relaxed. "S-Sure. I'll... I'll see you in class," the Faunus girl declared, grabbing her bow and quickly securing it back around her head. Sibyl watched her leave, eventually turning his eyes back to the sun. He sat like that for some time, just... looking at the sky. It was peaceful.

Someone else now knew he was cursed. He found something akin to comfort in it actually, just in case he hollowed. Others might try to spare him, keep him alive, but hopefully Blake would know better. If she was willing, she could take the burden of ending his life, much like Siegelinde took the burden of sending her father's hollowed corpse to a restful afterlife.

He was looking forward to it.

"Sibyl," Glynda's voice sounded behind him, nearly causing him to flinch and fall forward off the edge of the roof he was sitting atop, "I've been told about what you did, and we need to discuss your actions."

Oh, great. It seemed he wouldn't be getting out of a lecture on proper manners. Scoffing, he gave his sorcery student a small glare. "I'd sooner jump off this roof than apologize to that bumbling fool who _somehow_ gained admittance to this academy."

She sighed. "I don't intend to make you apologize, but attacking a fellow student has consequences here, whether they deserved it or not." He gave a lazy glance over his shoulder, an unspoken plea for her to get to the point. "You'll miss our field trip to Forever Fall at the end of the month."

The undead hummed, shrugging lightly and turning back to the sky. Missing some field trip was hardly a concern for him.

"Care to take a seat, Glynda?"

There was silence after his question, and he nearly expected her to simply leave him alone on the rooftop. Instead, she settled down beside him. Neither of them said anything, simply looking up at the sky.

"...are you adjusting well?" She eventually broke the silence, her voice cautious.

He wasn't entirely sure how to answer. "This place... it is very different. I would have killed Cardin for what he did today if I was back in Lordran. Is that wrong?"

She didn't hesitate to nod, and he appreciated the blunt honesty. "Yes. It _is_ wrong. He is young, racist, and ignorant, but that's not enough reason to kill someone in a civilized world. If his actions ever rose above simple bullying and turned to maiming, or worse, murder, then perhaps."

The undead absorbed her words. Goodwitch had become something of a sounding board for what morals of his needed adjusting in this new world. She didn't judge him, simply correcting him on what was right in a more 'civilized' world. It was nice, not having her tell him indirectly he might have been in the wrong with old actions took while roaming Lordran. She had explained, in precise terms, that where he came from and here were so far different and that he deserved time to adjust.

Turning to meet his student's green eyes, he nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. How comes your Soul Arrow?"

A small smile worked across her face as she adjusted her glasses. "I believe I'll have it mastered by the end of the day. I've been rather busy these past weeks, but found time to work on it more lately."

Sibyl clapped in appreciation. Without having the natural resource of souls to augment her learning, she had done a fine job. Two weeks to have the casting of Soul Arrow down to a mere second? He could only imagine how quickly she'd advance on the next cast, now that she was used to forming the soul energies. "Good. It's been something of a bore these afternoons, with my wayward students not needing to come see me. I hardly know what to do with myself!"

"I would suggest going into town. It's bound to be interesting, at the very least. Perhaps at the end of the month, while we're on our field-trip?"

It was a good suggestion, so he decided to run with it. "That seems a fine idea." It would give him something to do other than sit around this place, bored out of his mind.

"I hope you enjoy it. Now, I must be off. Dotry _not_ to be tardy to Professor Oobleck's class."

Sibyl groaned. He was going to have to listen to that babbling man again?

How wonderful.

* * *

Sibyl had made himself scarce the rest of the day, hardly even talking to anyone during Oobleck's class, but Ruby wasn't worried about that. She had a _great_ plan to cheer him up, one which everyone was on board with!

"This is the dumbest idea you've come up with, _yet_."

Well, everyone except Weiss was on board, but who cared about Weiss! This was a great plan, and before Sibyl could blink or threaten to kill Cardin again, everything would be great.

See, Ruby knew something about Sibyl which _no one_ else did. Really, it had been obvious before, but she'd never even thought about it until they started going through his artbook and he kept talking about all these great friends he used to have. It was sorta' hard to remember, but Sibyl wasn't from around here. He was from deep in the Badlands, maybe even beyond where most of the Grimm concentrated. So, him being here meant he had left a lot behind, mostly friends. Yang even shared about one more in depth. He had a father named Siegmeyer, whose armor made him look like an onion. As if that wasn't enough, Yang then told everyone about how he always kept this bucket helmet in his room on his desk. Well, the guy who wore that helmet had a drawing in his artbook!

It all meant one thing: Sibyl was lonely. Sure, the rest of them were away from old friends and family too, but the difference was they had teams. Sibyl? He didn't have a team... _yet._

"Are you sure he's even going to _want_ us to do this?"

Weiss continued to question her _awesome,_ amazing plan. Really, Weiss had been better ever since that one night with the coffee, but she was _such_ a downer! "Of course he's going to love it! Well, maybe not at first, but it'll be one of those things where he acts all grumpy but actually enjoys it!"

Yang snapped her fingers, smiling. "Just like Uncle Qrow."

Ruby nodded. "Exactly!"

Humming as they all came to a stop in front of Sibyl's door, Ruby and the others paused. It wasn't all of them, but it was the entirety of Team RWBY, as well as Pyrrha.

"Pyrrha," Ruby began, turning to look at the Mistral native, "he likes you the most. You knock!"

The redhead champion 'eep'ed when Yang shoved her forward. "O-Okay," she mumbled out, turning to look at the door before taking a deep breath. She knocked three times before speaking, "Sibyl? Are you there?"

"Yes, yes!" He called through the door, apparently busy with _something, "_ Come in if you must."

The group all turned to look at Ruby. It _was_ her plan, so it made sense, but still... She gulped, slowly moving in front of Pyrrha and opening the door. Ruby entered first, following by everyone else, and immediately found Sibyl in the middle of the room, sitting on the ground cross legged with a book in front of him. Not just in front of him, actually; they were all around him. Ruby blinked in wonder, eyes squinting as she tried to scan them from across the room. He leaned forward to get a closer look at one of the pages before turning to a notebook, writing down some hastily scribbled notes.

Eventually, he spared a look over his shoulder. Sibyl paused upon seeing _all_ of them piled into his room. Ruby waved lightly, clearing her throat and beginning to speak, "Hi! How... how are you doing?"

The sole student opened his mouth but closed it a moment after. Shaking his head, he tried again. "What are you all doing here?"

"Well," she began, taking a deep breath, "we just wanted to say sorry for not standing up for that Faunus during lunch, but saying sorry doesn't _feel_ like enough. You've just been so awesome and helpful, and nobody was really thinking about it, but you don't have a team, right? That has to be _super_ lonely, so we're going to make your room _all_ of our room's! Like a hangout room."

Sibyl blinked, squinting his one good eye at her for a moment before asking a simple question: "What?"

Yang pushed herself to the front, plopping down on his bed. "We're sorry, Fireball. About what happened at lunch, but mostly because we've sorta' just... let you do your own thing. You're like an honorary member of Team RWBY, what with teaching me and Weiss, not to mention how you and Ruby both like weapons, and who _knows_ what you and Blake did on the roof."

The amber-eyed girl stomped in protest, opening her mouth to say more but Yang just continued on, "The point is, we just wanted to make sure you know you're not alone here. What better way to do that then us _always_ being here except when we sleep?!"

"I appreciate the apology, but all of this is very unnecessary-"

Ruby rushed forward with a boost of her Semblance, leaning forward and resting a finger against his lips. "Nope! You're not getting out of this! You are part of Team RWBY, like it or not, and that means your room is our room!" Ruby declared before sparing a glance at Pyrrha. "Oh, and Pyrrha too. Nora, Jaune and Ren would be here, but Nora got a hold of some coffee."

It had been an _absolute_ nightmare, and secretly, Ruby was just glad Nora wasn't on _her_ team.

Sibyl shook his head lightly, sighing and turning back to the books all around him. "Well... it hardly matters to me. Do as you like, just leave my bed in the corner alone."

The scythe-wielding girl internally cheered. She _knew_ he'd react just like that! See, he didn't want them to _think_ he wanted this, but he totally did.

"...what are you doing, anyways?" Weiss asked, peeking over his shoulder.

"Ah, yes. Well, getting to here from my homeland in the Badlands was no intentional feat. I'm not entirely sure, but I'm inclined to believe a soul sorcery sent me here. I've been trying to figure out _how_ for the past two weeks, but it just... baffles me." He sighed, slowly shutting the book in front of him. "I don't even know why I bother. I was never as good with the theoretical as Logan was..."

Oh, no, he was getting all depressed again! Looking around, Ruby tried to find something to distract everyone with. In the end, she settled for grabbing an obscenely large hat which was resting on the ground near Sibyl. "Wow! This hat is _really_ big."

Sibyl chuckled softly, so she considered her mission a success. "That it is. Logan didn't receive his nickname as 'Big Hat'without reason." He stopped speaking, staring at the hat for a moment. "It's rather silly, but I've actually taken to wearing it while I try to dissect these theories and readings."

Ruby opened her mouth to respond, the hat atop her head getting snatched by Yang the moment she stopped paying attention. The blonde wasted no time in trying it on. "Damn! He didn't wear this thing all the time, did he?"

Sibyl nodded in response to Yang's question. Ruby was just upset _she_ didn't get to wear the hat anymore. It made her look like a witch!

"He did. Always said it muffled the noise of those bloated politicians who tried to converse with him."

As Yang delved deeper into conversation with Sibyl – her sister and him seemed to get along _really_ well – Weiss, Ruby and Blake took to rearranging the room, keeping all of Sibyl's stuff in the corner while they used the beds as a sort of makeshift couch along the walls. The chests which were at the foot of every bed were moved together to make a sort of coffee table, and-

"See, Fireball?" Yang declared, having finally removed herself from the bathroom. She was wearing some gold-hemmed robe which Ruby recalled Sibyl wearing the night he stayed over at their house, "I make this look _good."_

"I think your hair contrasts with the black far too harshly," Sibyl declared flatly, scanning Yang up and down before turning back to the book in his hands.

Yang, of course, was furious. She always got mad when people talked badly about her hair in _anyway._ "What?! No, my hair is freakin' perfect! You take that back!"

Sibyl responded promptly and without even looking up, "No. I won't _lie_ to make you feel better."

Yang cursed, and it was at that moment Ruby decided her mission had been accomplished.


	7. Dismayed Revelations

_**Sorry for this update taking longer than I promised. It's been a crazy past few weeks, what with my own graduation, my church's annual Greek festival, and work. That said, I'm not making excuses, and will be doing my damn best to make sure chapter updates come out within 10-14 days apart. The good news is I now have a beta, who has gone through and reviewed all previous chapters and caught up with my live-writing. He (**_ _ **ekaterina016) does a great job and has really improved my work and current writings.**_

 _ **Me and my beta were discussing what is the best way to implement spells in the readings, as far as making them stand out in combat and elsewhere so text flows better. He suggested brackets, like**_ [Power Within] _ **, while I've decided to go with the spell being the same as my author notes: bolded and italicized, like:**_ With a cast of **_Combustion,_** he...

 _ **We can also simply leave it as how it's been up until now.**_

 _ **Which one do you guys like better? It's all about what reads better, so while I usually refuse to ever ask for reviews, I would appreciate some input back on that particular question, be it a PM or as a review.**_

 ** _Anyways, you guys have waited long enough. This is where the fun begins, so read, review, follow or not, just remember to enjoy_**

* * *

For as impossibly frustrating as learning sorceries was, it was equally amazing. Weiss learned something with every failure, big or small. She failed a _lot_ , which was something she wasn't really used to. She'd never been allowed to fail, and in that respect, it was refreshing.

Sibyl never pointed her failures out like her father did, with a scathing tone and disappointment. No, he simply corrected her, answered whatever question she asked to try and fix the problem, and moved on. He even complimented her on how much quicker she was in picking up sorcery casts than he did! He was an exceptional teacher, and it was clear she was an exceptional student, as always.

That said, Weiss would readily admit to being somewhat… envious of the woman across from her. Her jealousy wasn't very rational; Glynda Goodwitch was much older, had a Semblance suited to the mental shaping aspect of the soul, and, oh, by the way, had she mentioned the female teacher was also a fairly legendary Huntress?

Weiss, however, was 'only' a Huntress-in-training and only seventeen years old. It was no wonder why Glynda was taking to this whole thing much quicker than her. Such knowledge did very little to make it any less _annoying._ Not that she'd say it aloud, though, even if her nervousness of learning with Glynda from Sibyl had dissipated over the past month rapidly.

Goodwitch was still _her teacher,_ and Weiss knew better than to antagonize the stern woman. The only thing which helped reduce her irritation on the matter was Glynda seemed to hit road bumps as well, except the Huntress got past them much quicker. Again, age and experience were her advantage, but it was no less annoying.

Sibyl was beginning to branch off their learning paths, at least. Sure, they were both learning the more basic 'brute force' sorceries like Soul Arrow and all its variants, but Sibyl was letting them 'forge their own path', to quote him.

It wasn't so stark as when _she_ decided to come here against her father's wishes, but it was the same principle. Glynda had more than a small amount of interest in the utility of light-based soul sorceries, which had a remarkable number of uses if someone was creative enough.

Weiss was interested in them too, of course, but her main desire right now was to get _better_ in a more brute-force kind of way. Glynda was already very powerful; she could afford to study the more versatile sorceries. Weiss needed to get on an acceptable combat level first, before she branched out.

That had been her reasoning, anyways, for asking Sibyl to teach her the Magic Weapon cast. It was a simple one, honestly, much more so than even Soul Arrow. It coated the weapon she wanted in the blue hue of the soul, and based upon her own strength and understanding in sorcery, would enhance her attacks. Both herself and Sibyl had discussed it at length, and they decided the enchantment would be even more effective against Aura.

If Weiss was going to win the tournament coming up in a few months, and prove she'd made the right choice, she'd need every trick in the book to get past Pyrrha.

For now, though, she was left trying to get used to spreading out the soul energy all along the simple longsword Sibyl had given her. She could concentrate it well, get it to stay, but spreading it _across_ the blade was simply beyond her. Sighing as another one of her attempts failed, she took a glance at Sibyl.

He was an oddity and had become no less of one the more she learned about him. Every time she thought to have him figured out, something changed. His actions in defense of that Faunus back in the cafeteria had shattered her belief he was a… hands-off, relaxed individual. She'd hardly expected him to fulfill the white knight fantasy so thoroughly.

Not that she was _angry_ about how he reacted to Cardin's bullying, but they were at a combat school. The Faunus should have been able to deal with it herself; that was Weiss's belief, anyways.

Those actions still had her wondering if he _was_ a Faunus. Was it possible for him to be hiding his heritage right underneath their noses? She had thought maybe it was some sort of White Fang ploy – he had come and found her on the first day – but decided that no White Fang member could and would be stupid enough to infiltrate this school. And, if he was simply hiding his Faunus heritage, she could mostly understand. Sure, it was frustrating he didn't trust them, but they weren't even on the same team, officially.

Besides, he probably wasn't even a Faunus. Sibyl hardly seemed like the type to hide such a secret, mostly because he didn't seem the type to _care_ what others thought.

As it stood, he was sitting in the center of their room, books around him just as they had been a week or two ago. He was concentrating intensely, and judging by the light scowl on his face, he was not making much progress.

He had taken a lot of time out of his search home to help them, and she only just realized no one had really bothered to help _him,_ or even pretend to _care_ about his journey home. Humming lightly, Weiss dared to ask a simple question. "Any progress?"

Her sorcery teacher looked up at the words, blinking a few times. Glynda, too, stopped studying the scroll in front of her, a scroll on a spell which focused on casting a ball of light.

"Hmm?" Sibyl asked, apparently confused.

"I asked if you'd made any progress on your research," she repeated, slowly.

His good eye lit up, but quickly dimmed as he sighed, giving a small, grim smile. "Unfortunately not. My resources are practically nonexistent, and I'm mostly using guesswork on how the spell works. My experiments haven't had any progress, either."

She 'ah'din acknowledgment, turning to look at the ground. How was she expected to respond to that, anyways? It wasn't as if she could _help._

Glynda looked a little bit uncomfortable, but spoke regardless, "I can always check with Ozpin on if he has made any progress." That's right; they were supposed to be working with Sibyl to get him home. It was the whole reason he was attending the school.

Their one-eyed teacher shook his head in response. "There's no rushing this matter. I trust he'll find me when he has something; besides, I intend to use my trip into town this weekend to try and find some books on it."

"…why are you so eager to get back? Do you not like it here?" Weiss wondered aloud, and immediately regretted doing so. "I mean, of course you have family and friends to go back to-"

Sibyl held up a hand to stop her ramblings. "I have no family and very few friends left back in Lordran," he began, "And I _do_ enjoy it here. It's… peaceful, even if I feel so out of place. For Gwyn's sake, I have no idea how that 'Scroll' device even works, and I see all of you use it daily." He sighed softly, closing the book in his hand and setting it down. "Despite my difficulties, this place is still far better than Lordran."

Weiss wasn't sure what to think about that. No family and no friends, yet he insisted on going back. By all accounts, his homeland sounded miserable. Why was he so desperate to get back?

"I'm… destined, I suppose. There is something I must do back in Lordran, all in the hopes of making things just a bit more bearable for those left. I owe it to the man who freed me and saved my life," he admitted, and it was the final piece of the puzzle Weiss needed to figure out why he was so insistent on getting back to Lordran.

He felt indebted, and that was enough to make him discard his _own_ feelings on the matter. It was something she could respect and wouldn't judge him for. God forbid if Yang ever got ahold of that information, though. She would demand a better explanation than ' _honor'_ _,_ that absolute brute.

"I… I wish you luck, then. I do enjoy your company and all of… this," Weiss explained, gesturing to the air, "but if it's so clearly important to you, I hope you find a way back."

Sibyl smiled, nodding in appreciation. It was enough that Weiss was glad she'd spoken up, and his next words only added to that satisfaction. "Thank you, Weiss. Until such a time, however, I think I'll try and enjoy this vacation!"

Smiling, Weiss turned back to her sword. Hopefully, Sibyl's vacation was a long one.

* * *

With two days left before his trip into town, Sibyl was in the precarious position of being anxious. He knew nothing would likely _come_ from his trip, but there was still a small spark of hope. It was that very same spark which had helped him in his previous journeys, and it would help him in this one, too.

Until he could venture into town, however, he was left trying to find a way to spend his time. In that respect, after a great deal of reflection, he had decided to share the same, superficial secret he had already told his students of. Except this time, it wasn't to his students. It was to a much younger girl.

"Wow," Ruby whispered, tiptoeing closer and leaning forward to get a clear gaze down his bottomless box. She took a sharp intake of breath before turning to him, eyes wide and lips thin. "It's a really dark box."

Sibyl palmed his face, dragging the hand down while Yang laughed from her position at the center of the room, cross-legged and seated on the ground.

"Quiet, Yang," he hissed, turning to glare half-heartedly over his shoulder. His wayward student slowly quieted her chuckles, but he knew she was still mocking him. It was obvious; her body continued to shake in quiet laughs.

"Yes, please be quiet Yang. I'm trying to concentrate!" Weiss added, momentarily lowering her catalyst and putting a hand on her hip. He had her working on a greater version of Soul Arrow at the moment, mostly so she could get used to forming the energies. That said, _he_ was the teacher here. Her complaint was unfounded, and indeed, would actually haunt her in the long-term.

"I suppose you'll politely ask the same of your opponent then, Weiss?" The Heiress opened her mouth to respond but closed it just as quickly, grumbling under her breath about buffoons.

"He has a point," Blake added from her position on one of the makeshift couches, a book in her hands.

The black-haired, bow-wearing girl was a bit of an oddity. She had yet to follow up on her desire to learn more of the Fire Keepers, and indeed, even seemed rather tense around him at all times. It wasn't surprising, given that she knew he was cursed as an undead. What _was_ surprisingwas she insisted on near constantly being around him. Blah. People made no sense.

Clearing his throat, he turned back to Ruby. "This is no simple _box,_ Ruby. Did you notice anything when gazing down it?"

She hummed, moving forward and looking into it again. "It's… really dark?"

He sighed softly, running a hand through his curly hair. "Perhaps it would be better if I simply showed you." Lightly moving her aside, he took his place in front of the bottomless box, reaching a hand in and retrieving the Obsidian Greatsword, a treasure from his fight with Kalmeet.

Ruby 'oh'din amazement as he showed it to her. "That box is without a bottom, and within it, I hold every single weapon I've ever come across and taken a fancy to." Handing over the Obsidian Greatsword to Ruby, he was glad to see she could hold it without much trouble. Her scythe was rather large, so it made sense.

Reaching two hands into his box, he grabbed both of Ciaran's favored weapons: the Dark Silver and Gold Tracers, two blades forged to complement each other expertly. Turning around, he saw Ruby testing the weight of the Obsidian Greatsword with a few weighted, careful swings.

"This is so cool! It's weird, though. I can feel something when I hold it," Ruby spoke with a confounded face, brows scrunched, and eyes narrowed.

Sibyl nodded in agreement at her words, taking the blade back from her after setting the two Tracers onto his nearby bed. "Indeed, there is a power within this weapon. The power of the Black Flame. I dare not beckon it much, lest it expand as it likes to and injure us all."

Nonetheless, he held the sword lightly above him and allowed _some_ of the energy to flow towards the tip of the blade, now facing the ground. He stopped before it could get out of hand, however, not wanting it to explode.

"That's amazing!" Ruby babbled, rushing forward and putting her face mere _inches_ from the blade, "How does it do that? Is there some sorta' mechanism on the inside? Ooh, did you discover some new type of Dust in the Badlands?"

Holding a hand before she could keep on speaking, he decided to answer a few questions. "This weapon is enhanced thanks to the beast I found it with. How it is enchanted, I do not know, but it simply is." He dropped it back into his bottomless box without a worry, the weapon falling without noise. "Onto the next! These are the Gold and Dark Silver Tracers, meant to be paired. I was given them by Ciaran in return for a… favor."

A favor was certainly one way of explaining his giving the corrupted soul of Artorias to a grieving lover.

Shaking his head, he took hold of the twin blades, so similar yet distinctively different. "This," he explained, holding up the darker of the paired blades," is dripping with a deadly poison. The intent is to distract," he slashed with the Golden Tracer, leaving behind a glowing, beautiful trail as he twirled the metal and sliced again, "and then inflict the poison." To emphasis his point, he moved the golden blade up while slashing at around stomach height with the offhand blade.

"They're so pretty," Ruby commented, beckoning a nod of agreement from the undead. He was quick to return the two to the box in the meanwhile.

"Indeed, but no less deadly than any other weapon." He paused as he considered which weapon to show next. In the end, he settled for a classic which he had received personal lessons on: the Murakumo, a large, curved longsword which required just as much skill as it did strength.

He hefted the blade against his shoulder, careful to not hit the celling of the room. "I've never wielded a blade more difficult to use than this one."

Ruby nodded absently, mouth open slightly. "Ooh, does it do anything else? Maybe a chain hidden inside the handle so you can catch people off guard, or, or does it catch on fire?!"

Sibyl rose an eyebrow at her odd questions. "It does no less than cut and slash, Ruby, though I have been known to pair enchantments with it." Reaching for the Oolacile Catalyst he left on his bed incase Weiss needed an example, he moved it over his blade, running it along the base. The Murakumo, blade and all, simply _disappeared._

Everyone was silent in the wake of the cast, and he noticed even Blake had stopped reading her book. "W-What? How?" Weiss questioned, eyes alit with interested.

"Hidden Weapon is a tremendously valuable cast. A deeper understanding on the soul's effect on the refraction of light is needed to even begin to understand the cast. It took me _ages_ to get down, and that was only thanks to Dusk's fine teaching abilities," he explained, shrugging lightly.

Weiss did something he could never recall her doing before: she cheered, shaking her hands with joy and laughing. "Yes! Sorcery is amazing!" It seemed he wasn't the only one in shock, as the whole room was staring at her. She eventually realized this, cheeks glowing red. "What? It is!"

Yang nodded with a small smirk. "Yeah, sure seems like it, Weiss-cream, but… just never seen you act so _normal_."

The Heiress stomped in anger, and Sibyl laughed.

"Unlike us pyromancers, Yang, sorcerers are known to have their catalysts resting within their asses." His blond student stared at him in absolute _awe_ before bursting out in laughter. Weiss crossed her arms and huffed, refusing to look at anyone. Sibyl even swore Blake laughed in the corner.

"H-Hey!" Ruby interrupted, rushing in front of him with help from her Semblance, "Don't be mean to Weiss!"

Sibyl ruffled the top of Ruby's head with his hand, effectively ruining her hair. "Oh, I only jest. I practice sorcery myself, of course. What fun is there in being a teacher if not to poke fun at my students?"

Yang sighed lightly, looking a bit uncomfortable from her spot on the ground. "Yeah. Say, Fireball, do pyromancers have anything like that?"

Humming, he took a moment to consider the question. "Well, pyromancy often focuses more on simple destructive power, but we do have a few abilities to augment oneself."

Ruby nodded, pipping up with her own input. "Yeah. Like how you covered your skin in iron during our duel last week!"

He nodded. "Quite right. There is also Power Within, a cast which enhances one self's strength and natural endurance, but takes the user's soul and health as fuel to do so."

Blake finally shut her book, and that action was enough to get everyone's attention to turn to her. "And Sibyl showed how pyromancy can still be used for utilities like that Hidden Weapon cast. Just look at what he did with that poison cloud against Ruby."

Inclining his head, he continued, "Indeed. Sorcery is more versatile by design, but the only limit to any of the three arts is imagination."

With Yang's faith in pyromancy restored, she nodded and continued to do what he had instructed her to do: summon her flame suddenly in a combustion. It was the most basic of pyromancies, but still quite powerful.

"What is the third art, anyway?" Weiss asked, a single brow raised.

"Miracles," he answered, taking a moment to elaborate, "Quite a few of them, as well. I'm unable to cast any of the healing miracles, as my faith in those gods and their tales are quite… lacking, but Velka and Gwyn have always favored me."

As Ruby prepared to ask a question, there was a knocking on the door. Weiss begrudgingly moved over to open it, allowing Pyrrha, Ren, and Nora to enter. Sibyl sighed; he could barely remember the time when his room was _private._ They had all been invading constantly since Ruby's intervention, and while it was not always unpleasant, he certainly wished he had more time alone.

In this case, however, he was glad they came. Pyrrha had quite the depressing aura around her, and it was so very unfitting. She moved over to one of the beds, sitting down and resting her head in her hands. Sibyl gave a sidelong glance to Ren, who sighed and shook his head lightly.

Nora's face suddenly appeared in front of his own. "Hey, Sibyl! I've been practicing a lot lately! You know there was that lightning storm the other day?" Sibyl nodded hesitantly at the mad girl's rambling, "Well, I went onto the roof and got lightning to strike me _four_ times! How's that for dedication, huh?"

The undead blinked before slowly opening his mouth, unsure on just what he _was_ going to say. "Very… impressive, Nora."

She smiled, turning her nose up and crossing her arms. "Yup! Just you wait, Mr. Lightning Pirate. I'll be worthy in no time!"

He prepared to respond to _why_ in Gwyn's great beard she had called him a 'Lightning Pirate', but just as suddenly her neck seemed to turn on an instant. "Wow! Is that a bottomless box?!" She rushed over in a burst of speed he hardly knew her capable of _._

As Nora gazed into his box with absolute wonder, Ren beside him sighed again and opened his mouth to dismiss Nora. Sibyl? His jaw was unhinged in shock. "How in Izalith did you know?"

The orange-haired girl gave him a look over her shoulder, laughing lightly. "Well, duh, it doesn't end!" She reached into his box, grabbing hold of something and pulling.

He felt his mouth open again when he saw it was Grant, an ancient weapon of the Way of White and choice bludgeoning tool of that old phantom he had come across, Paladin Leeroy, according to Rhea. "You… you can lift that?" Clearly, she _could_ ,by the way she gave it a few practice swings but kept it from hitting the ground.

The undead couldn't help it. He chuckled, the deep sound soon turning into full blown laughter as he too to clapping his two hands together, his face splitting into a wide grin. "Marvelous! Simply marvelous. I've never met someone who could match my own strength!"

Nora laughed as well, moving Grant up onto her shoulders. Sibyl decided to gauge her a bit further. "But can you hold it _one-_ handed?"

The girl looked affronted at the implication that she _couldn't,_ and indeed, she was able to lift it with one hand. Still, he saw the vein on her forehead throbbing. He was hardly any different in that regard; Grant was _obscenely_ heavy. Regardless, he considered himself impressed. Moving beside her, he gave her a solid slap on the back and grabbed the weapon himself, returning it to its rightful place in his box.

"Perhaps I misjudged you, Nora." He sighed softly at seeing the hopeful look on her face. "The sun doesn't bless you yet, I'm afraid. That feat alone was enough to persuade me closer to teaching you, but you simply wouldn't be able cast the miracles at the moment."

She sighed, seemingly depressed. It was a shame, but it was the best he'd be able to reassure for now. "Well, that's fine," Nora explained, ending his internal musings, "I really wanna' earn it, you know? I don't want anything to be just _given_ to me. There's no fun in that!"

He smiled lightly, nodding in appreciation at her words. "A fine sentiment to have." It was a belief befitting of a Warrior of Sunlight; that much, he could say.

His good mood shook off remarkably fast when the aura of Pyrrha reasserted itself. He spared her a glance; she was sitting rather dismayed on his bed. It was a far cry from what the beautiful girl should have been doing. He decided some action was needed. "Care to accompany me on a walk, Pyrrha?"

The redhead looked up, startled, but hesitantly nodded with a mumbled reply of yes. "Huh? What about teaching me and Weiss?" Yang asked, and it was a valid question. He felt somewhat bad in abandoning his students, but they were doing fine, and he'd only be a moment.

"It will be a brief stroll. I simply need some fresh air."

His blond student seemed a bit annoyed, but just huffed and went back to trying to combust the flame in her hand. Weiss hardly seemed to care one way or another, going back to forming another Soul Arrow to launch at Havel's shield.

"Hey! Can I come?" Ruby asked, looking at him with hopeful eyes.

He swore they were sparkling! Sighing, he nodded. Perhaps she'd be able to assist with Pyrrha if he was unable to. "Of course, Ruby."

The three set off without much words exchanged – not that no one was _talking._ Ruby was eagerly explaining all these '"amazing"' and '"awesome"' things he could do to enhance his weapons.

…admittedly, some of the ideas were growing on him, but he'd never say that aloud lest she implement _all of them._

Once they had finally gotten outside from the halls and beneath the shattered moon's light, he ignored Ruby's babbling and turned on Pyrrha. "Pyrrha, I beseech you, tell us what is bothering you."

The younger girl who had insisted on accompanying them looked between himself and the Mistral Champion with stark confusion.

"W-What? Nothing's wrong with me," Pyrrha insisted, "I'm perfectly fine. Splendid, even!"

Sibyl flatly rose a brow.

The redhead sighed, crossing her arms in a way to hug herself. "…is it that obvious?"

He nodded, never one to lie. "Your usually radiant self has been rather dim," He gestured to a bench after speaking, and the three settled down on it without much of a bother.

"Maybe you'll be able to help, Sibyl," Pyrrha conceded, squeezing the armrest of their new resting place. "It's Jaune," she began, voice sounding very _tired,_ "He's been hanging out with Cardin more often, just completely ignoring me, not to mention Ren and Nora!"

Ruby gasped lightly, but Sibyl gave no verbal reaction. He was _angry,_ however. Very angry.

"He's been friendly with that racist bigot?"

The redhead nodded lightly, and Sibyl considered it the last he'd hear. "If your partner has abandoned you for _them,_ then perhaps you're better off without him."

She shook her head 'no' resolutely.

Ruby spoke up before Pyrrha could. "There's no way Jaune is hanging out with them over Pyrrha! There has to be more to it! Jaune's super nice; he'd never hang out with those type of people."

The other girl nodded in agreement, while Sibyl scoffed.

"People lie. People deceive. There is no shame in being tricked by them, but to _defend them_ when they show their true selves _?"_ He shook his head, turning his eyes to the sky. Pyrrha needed to be pushed, to truly _understand,_ and while he hesitated to call her a close friend, he did admire her in much the same way he admired the sun. Seeing the girl make such foolish mistakes drove him mad.

"I once freed a man behind bars, and he assisted me not once, but twice with foes that, at the time, were far beyond my own strength. I thought him a friend; we spent more than a few moments conversing and laughing."

Sibyl clenched his fists, teeth grinding at just the memory of that _bastard._ "Then he murdered a mute woman in cold-blood." He heard two sharp intakes of breath but was too angry to care. "I found him. I hunted him down; I demanded an explanation from my once-friend."

Sibyl finally turned to look at Pyrrha, meeting her startled green eyes. "When he gave a poor one, I killed him without mercy."

She looked away, turning to stare at the ground opposed to his own single-eyed gaze. "I'd say you ought to do the same. Demand an answer from Jaune, and if he gives a poor one, throw the poor sheep into the den of wolves he decided to befriend."

Standing up, Sibyl decided he would take an actual stroll around the school before returning to his dorm. It would help to calm the nerves.

* * *

"…Sibyl killed a friend?" Ruby mumbled, suddenly remembering those two, beautiful weapons he'd shown her. He'd said one was laced with a deadly poison, but she'd mostly tuned that out. Now, it made a lot more sense. You didn't poison Grimm, definitely not an Ursa or Nevermore. You poisoned _people_.

Pyrrha nodded lightly. "It… it would seem so."

Did anyone else know? Killing people was illegal! There was always a better option; why didn't Sibyl just capture him, turn him in? He even said his friend had been behind bars when Sibyl freed him! Why was he freeing a prisoner? Did Yang know? Had Sibyl killed his friend with pyromancy? Was it meant for killing _people_ and not Grimm?

Sure, his friend had been a murderer, but there were laws and stuff for a reason! You couldn't just _kill_ people, definitely not in Vale-

Oh. Sibyl… Sibyl wasn't _from_ Vale, was he? He wasn't even from Mistral or Atlas. No, he was from the Badlands, where things were _different._ That was what Qrow always told her and Yang, anyways. When he said he'd kill Cardin if he ever bullied another Faunus while Sibyl was around, had he _meant_ that? Bullying was bad, but killing someone for it was way, _way_ worse.

"…do you think he's right?" Pyrrha asked, not quite as stunned as Ruby was.

"What? No! Jaune's definitely not a bad guy. I _do_ think you should go and talk to him, but… I don't know." Ruby sighed. Helping people was a _lot_ harder than she used to think it was. Blake had told her that on the first day, too, but she'd mostly written it off.

"I think I'm going to stay here for a little bit. Why don't you head back to the room?"

Ruby hummed at the request. Pyrrha wanted some time alone, and Ruby wanted more time to think. In the end, she nodded. Giving a small goodbye, she started walking, a lot on her mind.

* * *

There were very few times Sibyl could recall being angry upon just _seeing_ someone. It began and ended with Lautrec, but now, he was feeling the same with Jaune.

"Just who do you think you are?" Sibyl asked, tuning to stare at the blond screw-up who was standing outside his own dorm. The undead had finally finished his walk, and now, as he calmed down, he got to see the source of his anger.

"W-What?" The blond responded, taking a step back in fear at the tone.

"I did not stutter. Why are you so irresponsible? Simply _tossing_ Pyrrha, your partner, aside, and for who? Those racist bigots?"

The blond looked down at the ground, refusing to make eye contact. That was the last straw; Sibyl stormed across the hall, grabbing him by the collar and pinning him up against the wall. "Answer me! You look away ashamed, yet refuse to speak!"

The boy struggled in vain against Sibyl's grip. The undead simply pushed him harder against the wall, bringing his face in close. "Answer. Me."

Jaune sighed softly, slumping. "I'm… I'm trying to deal with it. I don't want to hang out with Cardin – I hate him! But… but I have to, otherwise…" he swallowed a lump in his throat, and Sibyl felt his anger grow.

"Otherwise _what?"_ The knight questioned with a hiss, "You do realize what you're doing nowhas _consequences_?"

The blond shook his head, muttering under his breath. "You don't get it!"

"I hardly _want_ to get it, Jaune. You-"

"I'm sorry if I'm not as strong as you, or as cool, or anything like that!" Jaune exploded, finally daring to meet Sibyl's own eye, "I'm not talented like you, or even smart like Weiss! I'm not fit to be a leader; I didn't even _want_ to be one! I'm sorry I can't just _stand up_ to Cardin! You can't understand what it's like to fail all the time; you're freakin' amazing."

' _Oh? That's it? What an idiotic way to think.'_

The undead laughed, letting Jaune fall from his grip and collapse pitifully on the ground. He couldn't believe it; this absolute _fool_ in front of him continued to surprise. It was in no way a _good one._

Sibyl shook his head. "I was once like you, a talentless hack who was only fit to die. Then, circumstances demanded I change." He slowly leaned down, looking Jaune in the eyes. "Circumstances now demand you change. Either you rise to the occasion, or you continue to be a meek, weak-willed boy."

Words parted, Sibyl entered his dorm without a glance over the shoulder. Opposed to a mostly full room, everyone was gone save Yang, who laid asleep on his very own bed. Perhaps his walk had taken longer than he thought it did? Sighing lightly, Sibyl grabbed a blanket and threw it over the girl-wonder before moving over to one of the other bed-turned-couch. He was already in something comfortable, so he didn't bother to change out of it.

Instead, he sat down on one of the beds against the wall, staring at Yang who was snoring not so softly. Circumstances demanded change, indeed.

* * *

If there was one thing consistent in life, it was the way Yang Xiao Long woke up in the morning. Her violet eyes would slowly open, a hand reaching up to rub them. She'd promptly yawn, blink a few times to get her surroundings into focus, before promptly _rolling back over_ and trying to ignore her responsibilities. It was a coin flip if she'd pull the covers up over her head.

Today, she did, and all was well for a few seconds before she realized they smelled… different. It was an aroma she had trouble placing, but eventually it hit her: it was the same, pleasantly-scented smell of ash which Fireball had around him. She'd asked him on it awhile back, and he said it was thanks to something he used to use all the time back in Lordran.

Why the hell did her blanket smell like Fireball? Sure, her and the team had been over in his dorm last night, but that wasn't a reason for _her_ room to smell like… oh. _Oh._ Yang bit her lip, thinking hard on if she actually _had_ returned to her room last night. After a moment, she realized that _no,_ she couldn't remember going back to her dorm last night.

Sibyl's walk took a long time, so while everyone else left, she opted to stay and wait for him to get back. She wanted some help on the _**Combustion**_ cast, so the blonde took a seat on his bed… and that was the last thing she remembered.

Slowly pulling down her covers, she sighed softly at seeing she _was_ in his room. _Nice._ She had jacked her teacher's bed… right? Dismissing the possibility of _that_ in the same instant she realized she was still fully dressed, Yang took a glance around the room, eyes adjusting to the light.

Forcing herself onto two feet, she didn't see Sibyl anywhere. Though, he did have some clothes laid out on the makeshift couches: his school uniform. Stretching, she spared a brief glance back at the bed she'd been laying on. It was an absolute _mess…_ but Sibyl would probably be able to handle it.

As the bathroom door jiggled, Yang didn't really think much about turning to look. When her head finished turning, out walked Sibyl, towel draped around his waist. Except Yang didn't really _notice_ that. No, she was left staring at… at a mess. She didn't even realize a gasp had left her until she finally _breathed._

Sibyl, for his part, blinked in confusion at seeing her before his one-visible eye widened. Did he shower with his eyepatch on? No, that didn't even matter. Yang was busy studying the crisscrossing scars which covered damn near every visible inch of his body. They didn't make him look roguish or handsome, even if she could see all the muscles beneath them. No, the only thing Yang felt as she stared at him was shock. They were _everywhere,_ from his arms to his stomach. Yang couldn't stop staring at one right at the _center_ of his stomach, where it looked like something had impaled him.

How was he even alive? It shouldn't be possible. She saw another cut running diagonally down from his shoulder across his chest, almost as if he had been cleaved in half! She traced another scar which ran up his side with her eye; it ended right beneath chest-level.

"…I'm sorry," Sibyl began, looking away from her in _shame,_ "I forgot you were here, in truth. I didn't mean to subject you to-"

Yang moved across the room, slapping her hand against his mouth and muffling whatever stupid words he was about to mutter.

"Don't apologize. Don't you dare." Slowly, she removed her hand, trying very hard to not let her eyes wander back down to the puzzle of cuts and slashes which was his bare chest.

"It's- well, eh…" He struggled to explain, mouth opening and closing several times before he just shook his head, moving to sit down on his screwed-up bed. Yang slowly sat down beside him, his state of undress mostly forgotten in favor of everything else she just realized.

"It's funny, ya' know," she began, laughing robotically, "I kept thinking how amazing you were, what with how you have pyromancy and sorcery, not to mention managing to beat Ruby without breaking a sweat." Yang paused, considering how to explain it. "I never really thought about the… _how._ How you got so good, I mean."

Sibyl moved to stand up, still shaking his head. "I'm getting dressed. No one should have to see _this_ -"

Yang grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back down with as much force as she'd ever put into _anything._ "No. Sit down. I don't care; I don't care!" She was _yelling,_ turning to face him and staring at that mystifying grey eye. Blinking away her own tears, Yang shook her head. "I don't care. I want to know about them."

He moved his head back in shock, tilting his head in that silly way of his. "…are you positive?"

She nodded at his question, swallowing a lump in her throat.

"Well… ask away," he answered, sighing softly as his own eye turned towards his body sadly.

She pointed to one of the scars on his back shoulder than ran diagonally across his back. "Ah, yes. I was inexperienced, then, and made the mistake of turning my back to a foe far stronger than I with a _very_ big sword. Black Knights, we called them." He slowly reached around, touching the scar and running his finger along it as far as he could. "It wasn't very pleasant," he admitted, rubbing at his neck.

Yang nodded slowly, eyes scanning for another scar. She eventually settled on asking about some claw marks which began just above where his towel covered; she suspected it went down to his thigh.

"Three beasts, though I only thought there were two of them at the time," he explained, rubbing the back of his hand, "I slew one, was in the process of slaying the next, when it lunged from above, tearing through me."

Again: how was he _alive_?

"How did you survive?" She asked, not skeptical, but just… curious. He was clearly alive, after all, so he must have done something.

"I didn-" Sibyl paused, clearly thinking on a better way to explain his actions, "I did not think I would, but a cast of pyromancy managed to save me as they prepared to end my life."

She nodded, slowly. Pyromancy really was a life-saver, huh. Finally, her eyes were drawn to the one on his stomach. "And… and that one?" She asked, not even comfortable with the words leaving her own mouth.

Sibyl smiled grimly, shaking his head softly. "A knight, Ornstein, whom was just as swift as your sister when he wished to be, impaled me with his spear, lifting me off the ground and casting me aside as if some sort of _bug_ ,"he explained, and Yang blinked away more tears before they could form. "I was only just beginning to come into my own, to truly think I was _worth_ something, and he humbled me without mercy."

He heard her unasked question, explaining how he survived quickly, "Solaire healed me thereafter with a miracle, making sure I wouldn't pass, but the scar would never go away."

Humming, Yang slowly reached a hand forward, tracing a finger along the terrible scar. Sibyl squirmed somewhat uncomfortably, but Yang wanted to make it clear she _wasn't_ uncomfortable. Okay, no, she was uncomfortable, but not at the scars themselves. It was something deeper, and she couldn't think on how to describe it.

Still, she did her best. She knew some people didn't like their bodies, maybe because they were a bit overweight, but how would it feel to be like Sibyl? To have no way to fix it, not even the slightest bit of hope? The closest Yang could imagine was if she went bald thanks to some disease and had to wear a wig. She could hide it, keep her mind off it, but the truth would always be there, just underneath a thin layer of lies. In his case, it was clothes.

She became a Hunter because she wanted to go around the world and experience as many crazy adventures as she could. She was going here to train for it. Sibyl… Sibyl seemed to have just been _thrust_ into some crazy, dangerous adventures. Would she have survived in his shoes?

"They're not pretty," she admitted, slowly removing her hand and turning her eyes up to his single one, "but Fireball, you _almost_ make 'em look good."

He smiled, clearly happy for the change of subjects.

"Perhaps. Does it make me look more _badass,_ as you might say?" He asked, eyebrow raised.

Yang laughed, somehow managing to make it sound convincing. "Fireball, if you would have walked into Junior's club shirtless _,_ he would have pissed himself."

Sibyl laughed, and Yang did too, even if she didn't feel it. Then again, maybe he didn't, either.

* * *

As they sat at lunch, Sibyl tried to act normal. He _tried_ and mostly succeeded, but he'd never be able to _be_ normal. This morning with Yang had only cemented it. He was a freak, disgusting and repulsive even while under the guise of human. How in Gwyn's great name had he forgotten she was in his room!? He was an absolute fool.

The only real positive was he never removed the eyepatch on his face, even when showering. He feared what he'd find beneath it. Even without the Abyssal taint upon his eye visible, she had stared at him as if his body was an exhibit in ruins!

Her eyes roamed, counting the many scars – and deaths – which lined his body as a constant reminder of his mistakes. They were damn near uncountable, and the worst mistakes of his weren't even visible. The only good thing to come out of the entire day was meeting with Professor Port and getting the experienced Hunter to agree to letting Sibyl accompany him on his next venture out to capture Grimm.

Now he was forced to sit and eat a lunch with the people he dared to call companions, and the awkward silence was damn near suffocating.

"So," Ruby began, attempting to shatter the veil of silence which had overtaken the group, "Sibyl, what are you gonna' do tomorrow while we're on our field trip?"

Clearing his throat and swallowing the last of the food in his mouth, he spoke, "I'll be venturing into town. Glynda suggested it, and I'd like to do some research while-"

"Well, isn't that grand!" A voice announced from behind his back, and he barely had time to blink before the source of said voice sat beside him, inadvertently scooting Ren away from him. She was a pale girl with some glasses on, not to mention a beret and a few other accessories. "You're Sibyl, right?"

He nodded after a moment of hesitation.

"Great. Name's Coco. Been hearing rumors about 'ya', you know. They say you're the crazy guy who threatened to kill some first-year jock," she observed, and Sibyl internally groaned. If she came here to chastise him-

"I like that. _A lot."_

The undead blinked at her words, raising a single brow. "You see, that first-year jock was bullying my Faunus teammate. She's too well-mannered to deliver some ass-kicking herself, so when I heard _another_ first year marched across the cafeteria, kicked that kid's ass along with his whole team _by himself,_ topping it off by threatening to kill him again if he ever did anything like that _again,"_ she lowered her shades, revealing dark brown eyes, "I decided he deserved a date with yours truly."

' _What in Izalith was a_ _date?'_

Coco pushed her shades back into place, smirking confidently. "The fact you're a real hunk is just the cherry on top."

As the table around him busted out in words and protest – mostly Yang – Sibyl's mouth opened to speak before he closed it. Trying again, he attempted to put his confusion into words. "…I'm quite confused. What is a 'date'?"

Coco stared at him for a few seconds.

"Are you serious?" She asked, and before he could even nod, someone else at the table had already spoken up.

"He is," Weiss confirmed, "Sibyl's not exactly from… well, anywhere we know, so some things might confuse him."

He wanted to rebuke the claim, but it _was_ true. _Everything_ confused him.

Coco shrugged. "That's fine. Not everyone can be the fullpackage, I guess. A date's when a guy and a girl decide to have a fun time together, usually to see if they've got enough in common to get together."

Ah, now Sibyl understood. "Oh, a romantic endeavor. I'm terribly sorry, but I must decline." Judging by the way Coco's mouth opened just _slightly,_ she wasn't used to being told no. "I mean no offense. It's just I hardly know you, and I have something I must look into tomorrow. It is absolutely imperative I do so."

Coco shook away her dumbfounded expression, a confident smile reappearing. "Well, you're new to Vale, right?" He nodded at Coco's question. "Then I'll guide you around. No one knows the best shopping spots better than me. Besides, I just went the date thing because I figured you were some horny first-year who I could make take me out some place nice to eat. Instead, I found out you have _standards."_

She laughed, in a very distinct one at that. "Never would have guessed. Anyways: what do you say?"

Well… he didn't know Vale terribly well. Perhaps she would be of help?

"What, you don't think Sibyl can guide himself?" Yang interrupted before he could answer, her voice just a bit… off.

"Of course he could," Coco insisted, yet Sibyl wasn't _as_ sure about his ability to navigate Vale as she was, "but isn't it just more fun with _two_ people?" The odd girl paused, leaning across the table and lowering her glasses again. "Why? Is that a problem?"

Yang scoffed, crossing her arms and leaning back. "No way. Just making sure you're not going to _use_ Sibyl as your ticket to an expensive meal." The girl, who up until now he would hardly classify as serious, finally _became_ serious.

"No. As far as I'm concerned, what he did for Velvet means he can come to my team for anything. She would have just let it keep going on, but he stopped it before it became a real problem." Coco turned to stare at him, _actually_ meeting his eyes seriously for once. "Thank you," she finished.

He waved off her words. "I enjoyed teaching those ignorant fools a lesson. A part of me even hopes they forget, so I might teach it _again_." And indeed, he would like little more than to slam one of them against the ground again. It would be a remarkably good stress reliever.

"Perfect! Well, I'll find you tomorrow them, hot stuff."

Just as quickly as she appeared, Coco disappeared. Sibyl shook his head slowly as she walked away, swagger in her hips.

"What an odd woman," he observed. Yang nodded in agreement, sniffing lightly.

"You can say that again, Fireball."

* * *

"No, not that one," Coco commented, more to herself than to Sibyl. "That grey eye of yours is really breathtaking, but it looks terrible with light colors. You need to wear something dark," she observed, and he nodded lightly in the hopes it would stop her from continuing on.

It didn't work.

"Maybe something red; I bet you'd look real nice in a maroon," she decided, giving him a scrutinizing gaze before muttering to herself a few things which made absolutely no sense to him, even if he heard most of it. This was what Sibyl had been dealing with for the past few hours.

True to her word, Coco had tracked him down that very morning, dressed and ready to hit the town. She had promptly saw what he was dressed in, scoffed, and said they were going to get him a new wardrobe. _Why_ precisely he needed new wear was beyond him, but he knew better than to protest.

It was a lesson this land had done a remarkable job of teaching him. Women were not to be argued with, and it was better for everyone if he just went along before splintering off to do what he _actually_ wanted to do. In this case, he decided to just let Coco dress him as if he was a doll, though there were _some_ limits on what he'd allow.

"I don't think the overcoat look is bad on you, actually, just needs a bit more… color," she continued to explain, rubbing her chin as she stared at him. Turning back to the rack which had an assortment of shirts, she grabbed him a short-sleeved crimson one.

He shook his head. "The sleeves must be long," he demanded.

She raised an eyebrow, before shrugging. "Sure, sure, just go in and try these," she handed him some black trousers, a long sleeved maroon shirt, and a jacket before shoving him into a 'changing room'. Begrudgingly, he went through the process of getting dressed. It was something akin to an annoyance, being forced to do all of _this,_ but he was just glad to be given an opportunity at near-privacy.

Besides, Coco and the field trip gave him more time to leave Yang alone. She had tried to put on a brave face for him, to act like his scars weren't repulsive and disgusting, but he knew. The gesture was appreciated nonetheless, since it let him know she was doing her best to be kind, but it was still… uncomfortable. She needed more time to process his grotesque form; he was sure of that.

Still, he had already tried on more than a dozen of Coco's outfits. He was about to put his foot down and be done with this charade. Taking a deep breath, he stepped outside the stall. She moved around him in a circle, like a beast did to prey, before nodding and snapping her fingers. "You know, I think I've figured it out."

He blinked, but whether she noticed or not, who knew. "I keep trying to give you a style, something distinct, but you _are_ distinct." Well, that helped clear up absolutely nothing. Splendid. Seeing the look on his face, Coco elaborated. "I mean, you're a real looker, and that eyepatch makes you look intimidating. The curly, lightly tinted blue hair is a real eye-catcher, not to mention how well you fill out all of these," she counted each point with a finger on her hand.

"You _are_ your style, so plain-but-good-looking is going to be ideal." She didn't waste a second to turn around and grab six or so pairs of clothes he had tried on – actually, where were the other six pairs he had tried on? Shaking his head, he followed Coco, absently reaching into one of his pockets and retrieving the many gold coins he had brought on this trip.

They were of no value in Lordran, but he _had_ found a lot of them and just decided to keep them in case. Stepping in front of the beret-wearing woman, he laid a few coins down, unsure on just _how_ much all this was going to cost. When the gold coins were set on the counter and his hand uncovered them, both the girl behind the counter and Coco were quiet.

"What. The. Hell?" Coco asked, voice flat in shock.

…oh, great. He had done something odd again. Sighing lightly, Sibyl ran a hand through his hair. All he wanted was to finish this damnable trip and go to a bookstore!

* * *

"Yang's acting weird," Ruby began, having called both Weiss and Blake in close while Yang finished blow-drying her hair in the bathroom.

Weiss resisted the urge to scoff at the words; the heiress had only known Yang for a short period, and it was still _very_ obvious Yang was distraught. " _And?"_ Weiss asked, curious on why they were having a team meeting on this. "You're her sister, Ruby. You should handle it yourself." Really, maybe it was just a cultural difference, but Weiss couldn't understand for the life of her why Ruby seemed to expect them to stick their noses into Yang's personal business.

"No!" The younger sister declared, stomping her foot like a child, "We're a _team,_ Weiss! That means if anyone has a problem, it's _all_ of our problems!"

When Blake nodded, Weiss acknowledged she was outnumbered in this, since she assumed Yang's vote didn't count. Fine, so it was the whole team's problem.

"Okay. Continue," The white-haired girl remarked, crossing her arms. It made some degree of sense, at least. They _were_ part of a team, so it stood to reason Yang's issues could affect all of them.

Ruby nodded, opening her mouth. "Right. So, Yang's acting weird, and I've _never_ seen her act like this except when she was fourteen and some guy stood her up on a date," she paused, squinting. "No, even then, she was just mad. Oh, God, what's wrong with Yang? Is it me? Is she mad at me? Did I do-"

"Ruby, calm down" Blake commented, interrupting the girl before she could delve any further into her own insane ramblings.

The girl in question did so after taking a deep breath. Restarting, Ruby spoke, "Right. So, Yang: acting weird. What do we do?"

Weiss palmed her face, dragging her hand down. How did _Ruby_ get picked as a leader, again? She didn't even know what to do when her own sister started acting strangely. Calming herself down before she exploded, Weiss decided to answer this rationally. _Someone_ on this team had to be rational.

"It's simple, Ruby. We _ask_ her what's wrong."

"What's wrong with who?" Yang asked, finally having stepped out of the shower. Weiss froze lightly, as did Ruby, but Blake didn't.

"You. You've been acting strange since yesterday," the bow-wearer observed, careful to keep her voice in check, "and we're concerned."

Ruby nodded in agreement before adding on her own words, "Yeah. Please, Yang! Tell us what's wrong. We're all worried about you." She paused, considering her words carefully. "Well, me and Blake are worried about you!"

Weiss huffed, crossing her arms. It wasn't that she wasn't _concerned!_ She was, it's just it wasn't any of her business, and she saw no reason to make it hers. But that was out of her hands now; she wasn't going to be painted as a villain in this situation. "I _was_ concerned, but I didn't want to involve myself. Ruby has thrown all of that out the window, so… spill."

"I don't know what you're even talking about," Yang dismissed, messing with her hair absently.

It was all the evidence Ruby needed to pounce.

"Aha! It's too late, Yang. You started playing with your hair. Something _is_ wrong!" Pointing a finger in Yang's face, Ruby held it for a moment before faltering. "Please?"

The older sister held tough, waving away their worries with her hand. "Listen, I'm fine. Really! I've just been, uh… thinking about some things."

Weis scoffed, rolling her eyes. That was perhaps the most unconvincing thing anyone had ever said.

"If you don't want to tell us, fine, but don't _lie,"_ Weiss hissed, and the blond looked a bit crossed for a moment before sighing.

"It's… well, it's about Sibyl," Yang admitted, messing with her hair again and biting her lip. She really _did_ have an obvious call when nervous. As everyone leaned in to hear more, Yang elaborated. "Well, you know how I fell asleep in his room two days ago?"

"He didn't _do_ something, did he?" Blake questioned, face forming a scowl opposed to her more passive look.

Yang's features changed from unsure to completely shocked. "W-What?! No, no! He just threw some covers on me when I fell asleep, nothing like _that_."

Blake slowly flattened her expression after Yang's words.

Shaking her head, the golden brawler sighed. "It's… I don't even know if I should share?"

When all three of them stared expectantly, she shrugged. "Alright, fine. Sibyl, he's… he's got a _lot_ of scars. I mean, his freakin' torso was more scars than _skin_."

Weiss wasn't sure what to say, so she didn't say anything at all.

"And he was so ashamed about it! Repulsed about it, and he kept apologizing to me for accidently seeing it!" The blonde clenched her fists, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before relaxing. "He told me about them, about fighting all these people and creatures. Some knight impaled him on a damn spear, right through the stomach!" Yang exclaimed, and it was akin to a slap in the face for Weiss.

Sibyl had been _impaled?_

"It's…" Yang frowned, trying to figure out how to describe it. "It's like what I've always wanted to do. Wild adventures, fights all the time, helping people... I just never imagined it could end up like _that_."

As Yang finished her small rant, Ruby cleared her throat and the attention shifted promptly. "He… he told me and Pyrrha someone he thought was a friend killed a mute woman in cold blood."

Weiss gasped, eyes widening lightly. Ruby's usual expressive self was much more… _dead_ as she described what happened next.

"Then, he said he hunted him down and _killed him._ His former friend!" The younger girl hugged herself lightly, humming sadly. "What if we had to do that? What if, I don't know, Jaune or someone turned out to be a murderer? Would we have to kill him? Are we going to _have_ to kill people to be Huntresses?"

They were silent for a moment as they considered the question. It wasn't unthinkable they'd have to kill people in the future. Being a Huntress was more than just fighting Grimm, and Weiss had realized that long before she decided on _being_ a Huntress.

Blake breathed softly before speaking, "No. We won't _have_ to kill anyone. Sibyl's comes from the Badlands, and we can assume they hardly have laws or jails out there. He… It's not nice, but he was probably just doing the best he could to stop a deadly criminal."

Weiss nodded absently, before adding her own two cents, "Regardless of Sibyl's past actions, what matters is _now._ When introduced to laws and regulations, he hasn't acted on it. I'm inclined to agree with Blake; he was probably one of the few sources of justice _,_ no matter how convoluted, the Badlands had."

"I don't care about any of that," Yang muttered, rubbing her arm, "Fireball's a good guy; we all know that. Why the hell did it have to be him?"

It was as good a question as it was pointless, and Weiss had no reservations about saying so.

"It doesn't matter. If Sibyl hadn't experienced what he did, he wouldn't be who we know today. Character is forged in dire circumstances, after all." No one knew who they _truly_ were until the odds were stacked against them, and Sibyl seemed like someone who had only ever known such terrible odds.

"I know!" Yang declared, and her Semblance had even begun to make her hair glow, "I just want Sibyl to know he isn't some sort of damn freak because of a few scars! He was absolutely _disgusted_ by them!" As Yang sighed lightly, her hair lost its glow. "…I was too. I still am. Maybe that's why I'm so upset?"

The confused blonde sat down, resting her head in her palms and elbows on her knees.

"Well," Ruby began, slowly scooting closer to her sister, "tell him that." As Yang blinked, her younger sister elaborated, "Just tell him you're sorry for reacting like you did! Don't lie and say his scars are fine, because it's not fine. No one should have to have gone through what he did!"

"You weren't disgusted because of how they looked, right?" Yang hesitantly nodded, and Ruby finally sat down next to her sister as she continued, "You were upset because _they were there,_ and that means he had to go through it all."

Yang smiled sadly, pulling her sister in for a close hug. "Thanks, Ruby. You're pretty wise when you want to be, eh?"

Weiss was forced to admit; their leader _had_ sounded wise.

* * *

Tuckson lived a simple life these days. The White Fang was mostly off his back, just using his shop as a storage place for dust and a few other things. It was a far cry from his youth, when he'd been so enamored with the 'revolution' to not realize what a crapshoot it was. Of course, once you joined the White Fang, you never really got out. It's why he still _allowed_ them to use his shop.

What a load of garbage. They'd kill him in a heartbeat if he stopped letting them use it. Hell, they might even kill him regardless; that's why he was packing up and getting out of town, pronto. Mistral was supposed to be nice all year long, right? It sure sounded a whole lot better than Vale. Until he was able to leave, though, he'd keep doing what he always did.

Manage his shop. Meet White Fang agents when they entered his store and wonder if it'd be the end of his life or not. It really wasn't that bad, really, except the fear and paranoia. He made decent money, had a few, solid regulars, and it was just… so _peaceful_ compared to what he was used to. Refreshingly peaceful.

The Faunus looked up from the magazine he was reading when he heard the door open. Glancing up, his mouth was already moving with his catchphrase. "Welcome to Tuckson's Book trade, home to every book under the sun."

"Excellent to hear," a relatively deep, masculine voice responded.

Tuckson blinked after getting a good look at the young man. He probably wasn't much older than those Hunters and Huntresses in training at Beacon, but he sure as hell didn't look it. Tall, muscular, and with an eyepatch over one of his eyes.

"I'm looking for books on old legends and myths," his new customer spoke, and Tuckson took a step out from behind the counter to guide him to the appropriate part of the store. It wasn't _that_ uncommon of a request, especially from students at Beacon. That headmaster of theirs must have had a thing for old legends and myths or something, because the number of times a student came in and said they had a research paper due on one was _obscene._

"Yeah, sure thing, kid. Got anything in particular?"

One-Eye hummed lightly, before speaking, "Lordran. I'm looking for books on a place called Lordran."

Tuclson cursed internally as he heard the word. It was familiar, but damned if he could tell from where or what. "Well, kid, it rings a bell, but I can't say off the top of my head I remember much about it."

Frowning, the kid nonetheless thanked him. "Well, you're the first to at least have claimed to have heard of it; I was beginning to think myself mad!"

Tuckson chuckled, slowing to a stop and gesturing at the bookshelf in front of them. It wasn't a lot, but it was everything he had on old myths and legends.

A mismatch of a history and fantasy section, really. Giving the kid a small nod before turning back to his counter, Tuckson moved to sit back down. After about five seconds, he realized couldn't go back to reading his magazine. Something about that word, 'Lordran', had him off balance. Humming, Tuckson stood right back up out of his seat and moved to the back of the store.

"I'll be in the back, kid. If you need anything, just holler." Words parted, he closed the door behind him and moved over to his personal desk. Opening one of the bottom drawers, he pulled out a regular-looking notebook. Inside of it, however, it was anything but normal. The middle section of it was cut out, leaving room for letters.

It was one of the White Fang's older methods of getting messages around, but hey, it worked. The White Fang always kept things vague; it was how they survived and avoided infiltration. Lower members were given lists of words, and each of them had a hidden meaning the higher-ups knew. It varied between ranks; there were some secrets only Fang council members knew.

If you were a rookie in the Fang, you might get a letter which masqueraded as a letter from a family friend. The first letter of every paragraph, then the third letter of every other sentence would help form priority words. It was an easy sequence to remember, and usually, the letters didn't include anything severe.

Tuckson scanned the many letters he had collected over the years, giving each one a brief onceover before he finally read one which had the word he was looking for.

' _Lordran – If any non-Fang members mentions this, human or otherwise, be the word written or spoken, it is to be reported immediately to an officer. Priority level – 10.'_

It was dated three years ago, and Tuckson swallowed a lump in his throat. He had to report this, then. If they found out, they'd gut him like a damn fish and then _feed_ him to the fish.

Putting the letters back in place and returning his notebook to its drawer, he took a step outside and spoke words he dreaded. "Hey, kid, what's your name?"


	8. Away and Astray

_**Chapter 8, delivered. Edit: it has now been beta'd. Thanks for everyone who reviewed, favorited, or followed. I appreciate it. While I still won't ask for reviews, I would ask if you have any concerns with how I'm connecting things, you mention it.**_

 ** _This is my first_ _big writing project, so who knows, I may be in over my head. Regardless of that, I'm trying to do my best; receiving input back would only help. That said, please enjoy._**

* * *

" _I knew he'd come. We're connected by fate itself, after all, even if he doesn't know it. His arrival was only a matter of time. We'll have to be patient, but prepare a Dropship to Vale. I trust he'll find us in time, and then, I think it's only right we return Sibyl his teacher's books."_

* * *

It was an awkward spot to be in, Glynda would admit. Usually, she stayed quiet on these things, trusting Ozpin and his actions to be in the good for everyone. And, even _now_ , she was sure what he was doing was still what was good for everyone. The issue, then, was for the first time in a long time, her loyalties were tested.

She hadn't exactly expected it to happen after becoming Sibyl's student, but it was what _had_ happened. The odd boy probably didn't even realize the effect he had on those around him, having more than once written off what he was doing in teaching them his magics as _'repayment for a few favors.'_ Repaying a few favors was one thing; what he was doing went far beyond that.

Glynda had been trying to stay patient, to give Ozpin the time he needed to contact the correct people, get more resources and information, but entirely too long had passed without the Headmaster finding even _one_ note on Lordran.

Normally, she wouldn't care. Patience wasn't a virtue; it was _the_ virtue. These things could take time, after all. Still, she was the only one Sibyl felt confident in confiding the _true_ details of his past to. And, with each tale, she got more and more wrapped up in _him._ Her mind kept going back to their most recent time spent together, just… _talking_.

* * *

"… _it was absolutely fascinating, a world inside a painting! I could hardly believe when I fell into it, yet things only got odder from there," Sibyl explained, chuckling lightly._

 _Glynda smiled; his tales were always enjoyable and served as a good… stress-reliever from her own work. It certainly beat having to discuss with Peter his class curriculum. Besides, as she had learned, Sibyl enjoyed sharing. Oh, he was talkative with the other students he liked to hang out with, especially Yang, but he really carried on when talking with her. Perhaps because she was the only one who knew the reality of where he was from? It was certainly possible, but regardless, she felt blessed that he had such trust in her._

" _I awoke on a rocky bridge, planks missing here and there. It was bloody cold as I ventured ahead, finding sticks with corpses impaled upon them, as clear a warning one can get. Snow painted the landscape all around, complimenting a grey sky wonderfully. It was very… dull, and it took me back to my times at the Asylum."_

 _She had noticed, after the few months they had spent together, that all of his stories were after his awakening in the 'Northern Asylum', as he called it. He never said anything about his early youth, only his adventures across Lordran. He never mentioned why he was at the Asylum, either. She knew better to question it._

" _Perhaps a bit too literally," her student–and-teacher added, recapturing her attention, "I soon discovered it was a world fit for abominations, creatures of repulse and beings who would only spread discord among the general populace." He smiled sadly, turning his gaze to the stars above as they sat on the bench of an open courtyard. "Why, I'd never felt more at home than there!" Sibyl laughed, trying in vain to cover up the blatant honesty in his own words._

 _Glynda frowned, opening her mouth to cut off the self-deprecating joke, but Sibyl had already continued speaking, "It has since only served to strengthen my conviction, however. Those creatures, and indeed, even a few people, were cast aside by society, same as we had been at the Asylum. They were not given a chance to escape, to fix things for the rest of them." Sibyl paused, grabbing at the armrest of their bench and squeezing, "I, however, have been and was given such a chance. I can hardly afford to squander it."_

 _She hummed, adjusting her glasses as Sibyl moved on with his tale, talking about a half-human, half-dragon hybrid who had only known isolation in a sad, painted world._

* * *

The intricacies of his story had helped put into perspective just _how_ important it was to him that he got back to Lordran. He truly saw a parallel with himself and those trapped in such a painted prison, and he feared it would become far more literal if he couldn't act and fix it. All the time he spent studying and _failing_ to find a way back made much more sense, even in a larger context.

He was young, far too young to be forced such a great, self-imposed burden, yet he carried it with conviction. He was a bright young man, despite what some of his class grades might make people inclined to believe, and he could certainly have worked things out himself… if the situation weren't so complex.

No one could find a way back to another world _alone._ She refused to believe it possible.

Despite him teaching her the Soul Arts, she was _still_ older than him and his teacher. Glynda died every time she saw him reading some book, brows scrunched in concentration. The neutral look on his face would slowly, over the course of an hour or so, form into a scowl, and the writings of his notes would turn more frantic and angry as the time went on.

She had even seen the frustrations reach full bloom when he grabbed a book and tossed it across the room, cursing aloud. He had relentlessly apologized afterwards, of course, no matter how needless it was. His experiments, too, continued to fail. He had been blown back on his last attempt, the energy of the soul exploding in his face and rendering him deaf for a few minutes. It had been _quite_ the scare for both herself and Weiss, but he had shrugged it off and tried again.

It was easy to tell that he was simultaneously fighting against giving up hope and his own frustrations. He was a boy, no matter how mature and experienced he may have been and was being forced to deal with returning home to an entirely different _world_ on his lonesome. She wasn't going to allow it to continue.

Taking a deep breath and opening the door to Ozpin's office, she entered to find him sitting behind his desk, coffee in hand like always. He glanced up from the papers in front of him, greeting her quickly and with a sip of his caffeinated drink, "Ah, Glynda. What do you need?"

She cleared her throat, doing her best to try and remain calm until Ozpin pressed enough of her buttons. "I'm simply…. curious on what progress you've made with regards to Sibyl's return to Lordran." The headmaster nodded in acknowledgement, but Glynda wasn't done speaking. "It's been a few months, Ozpin, and we have _nothing_ to give him even a speckle of hope that his return home isn't just that: a foolish hope."

"Rest assured, Glynda, I'm doing what I can, but-" Ozpin _attempted_ to explain, and oh was it such utter _bullshit_ to her ears. If Ozpin actually cared, he would at least have _something_ for Sibyl by now.

"That's not good enough!" She shouted, clenching her fist to starve off some of her anger, "You do not interact with him _daily_ like I do. Our world already makes him uncomfortable, and he's doing his best to fit in, but it's clear that he just doesn't belong." She paused, tucking a bang behind her ear, "Beyond that, he's driving himself insane trying to find a way back home on his lonesome."

Ozpin slowly set his coffee down and interlocked his fingers, leaning forward across his desk. "Glynda, everything I do has a reason-"

Internally, she screamed; externally, she slammed a hand down onto his desk. "No! You will not use him like some sort of chess piece, Ozpin! He's already offering us more than he should have to!" Breathing heavy, she stayed that way for a few moments before withdrawing back.

Sibyl was too kind and had already dealt with too much to be dragged into their little shadow-war. He was already teaching them things which would be tremendously valuable _in_ that fight. They did not need to involve him literally, _especially_ with his eye. If Salem didn't already know about it, she couldn't _afford_ to know about it. Given the Griffon they'd seen during initiation, she probably _did_ already know.

"…I've found information on Lordran," Ozpin admitted, and Glynda felt her anger grow. "It's vague. It will do nothing to help him get back home." The Headmaster paused, staring into her green eyes. "So why should I even let him have hope he _could_ return home?"

Glynda felt like tearing her own hair out. "Because it's the right thing to do, Ozpin."

He grunted, adjusting himself and leaning back in his chair. "The right thing for him, or the right thing for everyone?"

Glynda blinked, raising a brow at his words. He quickly elaborated, "Why did you think I wanted him to attend as a student? It's so he can grow bonds, form friendships. So, he can forget about where he came from, and stay _here._ He had so much to teach and is very powerful in his own right. Sibyl alone could be what we need. _"_

Did… did Ozpin really have no idea _how_ he sounded? Manipulative was the absolute _best_ way she could describe it. The other ways were much more foul-mouthed.

"Well, I didn't know I worked for _Salem!"_ Glynda screamed, finally beyond flustered.

"Oh, this is different, and you know it! I'm offering him a better life, even if he doesn't realize it!" He yelled back, rising up from his chair in a fit of anger. They stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other before Ozpin sat down and Glynda closed her eyes, counting to ten.

"…he only wants to return home out of duty. It's abundantly clear he didn't like it in Lordran. Why is me giving him more reason to stay here such a bad thing?" Ozpin wondered to her aloud, and she bit her lip.

Ozpin didn't get it, maybe because he wasn't _allowed_ to get it. He was their leader against Salem, and sometimes, you had to lower your morals to fight such an evil. Still, that's why _she_ was here. "Because it's not your decision to make. If he ever finds out, it could drive him away."

Ozpin hummed. "Then he must never find out."

Glynda sighed. This conversation was all too familiar, and the stances taken were the exact same. "Just like Amber, then?"

Ozpin sucked in breath, and a part of her regretted saying it, but it needed to be said. They'd made these exact mistakes before.

"…Amber was a mistake, yes. But I learn from my mistakes. We'll be much more careful." He turned his gaze to the window. "We have to be."

Turning around, Glynda made to leave the room. "You're playing with fire, Ozpin. I do hope you know what you're doing."

Not just for his sake, either. It was for all of theirs.

* * *

Pyrrha sighed, watching as Jaune paced back and forth outside of Sibyl's dorm. The sun was soon to set, and the redhead had finally managed to force her team leader over here to try and repair the last of the damage his charade with Cardin had caused.

Their trip to Forever Fall a week ago had done a lot of good in that respect, as he was finally back on good terms with the team _he_ was the leader of. Really, their leader finally standing up to Cardin and stopping whatever had been going on which kept him away was a real morale-booster. He had been very handso- heroic! She meant _heroic l_ ooking, when he stopped the Ursa, too.

She was so proud of him finally showing an ounce of what she _knew_ he had within him. It was the entire reason he had been chosen as leader; he could be great, he just needed a little extra push to get there. The Mistral champion knew she could be that for him, if nothing else. He had accepted her help in training, but… well, Pyrrha wasn't sure just _how_ good of a teacher she was!

Luckily, there was someone who had proved to be an exceptional teacher in his own right who might be able to help her. The journey to turn Jaune into something great would begin here…

As soon as Jaune stopped walking back and forth, occasionally holding a hand up to the door to knock, just to freeze again and keep on pacing. He'd mutter under his breath, shake his head, and try again, but it always ended the same way: he froze up. She had spent entirely too much time just _watching_ him do that repeatedly, and for what? All he needed to do was have a conversation with Sibyl to clear the air.

Unfortunately, every time Sibyl was around or even mentioned, Jaune tensed up and got nervous. It was like he imagined Sibyl as someone to be scared of, which made absolutely no sense if you weren't inherently bad. Jaune _definitely_ wasn't inherently bad.

The one-eyed mystery was very kind, courageous, and strong, his admitted actions in the past doing _very_ little to persuade Pyrrha otherwise when he had mentioned it a few weeks back. She judged him solely on who he _was,_ and that was someone all should aspire to be like in some regard, from his humility to his quiet confidence, not to mention his amazing combat skills.

She just wished he'd stop sleeping through combat class. They'd been matched up once, but, well… he slept in. Again.

As Jaune ran a hand through his hair, Pyrrha took the opportunity to speak up. "Just knock, Jaune."

Her blond partner shook his head, turning to look at her with disbelieving eyes. "You don't get it, Pyrrha! He was _so_ mad at me – I mean, rightfully so, I was acting stupid and I am _so_ sorry, but," He sighed, scratching at the base of the neck. "I don't know. Sure, _you_ forgave me, but you're my partner and stuff! Sibyl, he's just…" Jaune shrugged, leaving the description unsaid.

"He's very kind and generous. Just… _try,_ please?"

Her leader frowned before mustering up the best brave face he had, turning to face the door and knocking three times.

She was very proud, and it was only a few moments before Sibyl opened his dorm, sticking his head out and already speaking. "Yes, yes, what help do you need-" He blinked his one good eye upon seeing Jaune standing there nervously, and Pyrrah waved lightly when his vision shifted over to her.

Jaune slowly cleared his throat, opening his mouth to say something but choking up halfway through and giving her a glance over his shoulder. Pyrrha sighed softly, resisting the urge to yell at their leader to just _man up_ and speak to Sibyl.

"Jaune and I were heading up to the roof to talk about some things. We'd like you to come," she spoke, not leaving it up as a question, as Sibyl usually had no problems declining those. He said if he had to be asked, then it wasn't vitally important. This was vitally important, so _she_ didn't ask.

"I see. Well, lead the way, then." Sibyl stepped out from his dorm, closing the door slowly yet firmly. Jaune was already setting off for the roof at a brisk pace, and Pyrrha fought against her desire to choke him alive. Sibyl followed alongside her slowly, and oddly, she noticed he kept giving her side-eyed glances.

"How are you this evening?" She asked, cordially and… well, _awkwardly._

Sibyl coughed lightly, clearing his throat before responding. "Rather well, I suppose. I was watching the sunset before Jaune knocked, and it is as beautiful as ever."

Pyrrha nodded, smiling. Sibyl was… remarkably simple when it came to things which brought him joy, perhaps a product of him being from the Badlands?

"I like the sunset. It's very peaceful." Especially in Mistral. There was almost nothing like it, though she had found the view in Vale was still rather good.

"Yes. You remind me of the sun at times, in truth."

She blinked, tilting her head in confusion at his comment.

He was quick to elaborate on his meaning, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. "Well, you're fierce and unwavering, just like its magnificent glow. Not to mention your vibrant hair, that while not quite the same shade, often leaves me stricken and stunned, much the same as the horizon our sun sets upon, and you elude an aura of warmth matched only by the comfort of bare skin in the sun's rays."

Pyrrah giggled lightly, ignoring the red hue of her cheeks. Really, Sibyl flattered her far too much! Still, he was very kind, and she was thankful to have him as a friend. "You're too kind, really. I'm nothing _that_ grand!"

Sibyl chuckled, turning his eyes to the ceiling above and muttering something under his breath. As they finally reached the roof, Pyrrha felt her smile fade at seeing Jaune _still_ pacing back and forth.

"Right, well, here we are," Sibyl commented, a not so subtle plea for them to explain _why_ they had dragged him here. Pyrrha nodded at Jaune, who approached Sibyl and took a deep breath.

"I just, uh, wanted to apologize and thank you. Apologize because of how I acted, you know, throwing Pyrrha and everyone to the side," Jaune closed his eyes softly, clenching a fist before continuing speaking, "and I wanted to thank you because you were right. Circumstances demanded change, so… I did."

Pyrrah coughed, and Jaune swallowed the lump in his throat so he could speak, "Also, I was sorta', _kinda'_ wondering if you wouldn't mind, you know, maybe… help training me?" The redhead cheered internally, her lips turning upwards in a wide smile.

It slowly faded when Sibyl stared hard at Jaune for a few seconds, eventually crossing his arms and grunting.

"I've hardly thought much about you at all since we've met. A weak build, a meek demeanor, not to mention a lack of manners and _so_ much more."

Pyrrha had expected a lot, but Sibyl _tearing_ into Jaune wasn't among them! She was about to step in and stop it, deciding Jaune didn't need any _more_ damage to his ego, but Sibyl continued to speak.

"Still, as I said before, people once thought the same of me."

Jaune blinked at _that_ revelation, and Pyrrha did, too. It made sense, of course – no one was really _born_ great, but Sibyl had always struck her as someone… larger than life. Almost like one of those living legends people heard about.

"W-What? No way, I thought you were just exaggerating when you said that!" Jaune exclaimed, eyes a bit wide. Sibyl sighed softly, lips quirking into a small smirk.

" _Yes_ way,indeed. I suppose you're expecting me to give a speech on how I improved myself, learned and so much more?"

Jaune nodded absently, and Pyrrha waited patiently for Sibyl to continue.

"I am Sibyl of Lordran, a Warrior of Sunlight, a master pyromancer, sorcerer, and a combatant matched only by a few," Sibyl leaned down, staring Jaune close in the face, "That has only come to be thanks to those around me, nearly all of whom are now _dead._ Teachers, peers, friends, and companions, even my enemies. They forged me into who I am today."

Sibyl slowly moved back from Jaune, turning to gaze at the sun, which was finally dipping below the skyline. "I won't train you full-time. I don't have the time for it," he admitted aloud, and Pyrrha nearly voiced some frustrations before he kept on, "yet, you're blessed with a splendid partner. Allow her to forge and sharpen you into something respectable."

"We were already planning on that," the Mistral champion added, Sibyl giving a small glance over his shoulder as she continued, "but, well… I'm not too sure on how well _I_ can teach, and you're already teaching Yang and Weiss, and they're coming along great! I was just wondering if you'd help teach me _how_ to teach Jaune."

He sighed softly, giving her a long stare and his eye softening. "Very well. I suppose I can afford to supervise a few lessons here and there."

"Great! Thank you _so_ much, Sibyl. It means the world to both of us."

He just smiled, shaking his head lightly and giving one last, longing glance at the sunset.

"Of course. To the both of you."

* * *

"And these rings are enchanted?" Glynda questioned, electing a nod from Sibyl.

It had been a quiet, simple day prior to her arrival, what with Yang and her team being in Vale for some sort of trip. They had invited him to come along, but he'd refused, not really wanting to repeat his lastventure into town. Coco was kind if pushy, but… well, going out there simply reminded him of how strange he was.

It was much easier to stay _here,_ in his dorm. The list of things to do had only grown shorter with each day, and while he usually resolved to continue his research into returning home, it put him in a foul mood. He intended to _enjoy_ his Friday and his weekend, and with that intent, he had elected to check his collection of rings, as much like armor and weapons, they, too, needed to be maintained. _Then_ Glynda had arrived, and he was left explaining his actions.

"Indeed," he confirmed, gesturing to the great pile of rings in front of him. "I haven't checked their condition in some time, however. A crack on a ring such as this one, for example," he explained, holding up the Ring of Fog, Glynda eyeing the mystifying grey smoke within, "can have disastrous effects, perhaps even irreversible ones." Holding it close to his vision for inspection, he hummed before holding it out for Glynda.

She raised an eyebrow, but nodded in thanks, slipping it onto her finger quickly. Her whole body, clothes included, turned invisible the moment her finger slid through it. Well, not invisible, but _very_ transparent. Glynda blinked, turning to look at Sibyl who was smirking. Slowly, her eyes moved back down to the ring on her finger, a smile forming on her face.

Glynda slowly slid it back off with care, the feature of joy on her face much more visible, what with her whole body not being transparent and all.

"You'll hardly have a need for it," he explained, taking the ring back slowly and setting it aside, "given how quickly you're catching onto the Hidden Body cast, but the ring is nonetheless useful."

Glynda nodded in confirmation, reaching a hand for her catalyst which sat at her side. She closed her eyes, concentrating for a second before attempting a cast. Half her body turned transparent, and he couldn't help but laugh. When her hips shifted, and she crossed her arms, he did his best to calm down. It was very hard, given how _ridiculous_ she looked with only her torso hidden, while her lower half remained completely visible, as well as her head and limbs.

As his chuckles finished and she cocked an eyebrow, he absolutely lost it again, deep, belly-bellowing laughter coming from his throat. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but nonetheless smiled. He wasn't trying to be rude, but… well, Glynda was such a stern, dignified woman, and seeing her like that just tickled something within him.

"I'm glad I _amuse_ you, Sibyl," she commented, adjusting her glasses and undoing the _attempted_ cast of Hidden Body quickly. "Perhaps you'd like to see my Homing Soulmass cast, as well? I'd love to try and hit a moving target."

Calming down finally, he shook his head. "No need for that, Glynda."

She fixed her glasses, opening her mouth to say something when the door to his dorm was suddenly thrown open. Sibyl glanced aside, confused to see _Blake_ of all people was in his dorm, with the bow she usually used to hide her ears removed. Yes, her Faunus ears were entirely visible.

"S-Sibyl, oh my God, I need-" The cat Faunus froze up upon seeing Glynda, who calmly rose her catalyst and, with help of her semblance, closed the door behind Blake before speaking.

"Miss Belladonna," the blond teacher greeted with a nod, "Do calm down."

Blake shut her mouth before reopening it, attempting to say something but clamming up. Sibyl walked across the room, putting a hand on her shoulder and guiding her over to the bed-turned-couch.

As he set her down, he cleared his throat. "It's quite clear you're distressed," he began, sitting down next to her in some vague attempt to comfort, "so please, share." Blake took a deep breath, preparing to speak, yet her gaze shifted to Glynda at the last moment.

The blond woman took her cue quickly, "…Miss Belladonna, Sibyl," Glynda spoke, capturing both their attentions, "I'll see you two in class on Monday, I hope?"

Sibyl gave Blake a side-longed stare and shrugged. "Perhaps. Have a pleasant weekend, Glynda."

His oldest student inclined her head before leaving out the same door Blake had entered from. Sibyl stared for a few seconds before turning back to Blake, who cleared her throat.

"I… I don't even know where to begin," she started, one hand rising to mess with her hair, "I don't even know if I should have come to you! We don't ever talk – this is stupid," she growled out, moving to stand. He grabbed her by the wrist and sat her right back down.

She wasn't wrong in that they hardly spoke, even if she seemed to keep some sort of eagle-eye watch on him at all times, as if waiting for a slip up. Still, that hardly disqualified him to help her. "Your first instinct _was_ to come to me, Blake. Clearly, you think I can help in some degree. Please, share what has you troubled."

"Alright. Alright," Blake muttered, trying to strengthen her own resolve, "We went into town today; me and Weiss got into a fight about Faunus, and I-" She suddenly froze up, her eyes shifting towards the door with a piercing stare. "Someone's coming," the cat Faunus whispered, turning towards the window a moment later.

Before she could even _think_ about dashing out, he moved over to his desk, grabbing the Ring of Fog and forcing it onto her finger. "Now, _stay_ quiet." She blinked at the sight of her body being transparent, but Sibyl had already turned his attention back to his pile of rings, attempting to look _normal._

Waiting a few seconds, his door was suddenly thrown open, a disgruntled Yang entering. Sibyl's noted, with a degree of sadness, that his pyromancy student was breathing heavily with wide eyes. Her usually miraculous hair was in a state of disarray, too. "Fireball," she greeted with a frantic voice, "Have you seen Blake? I _need_ to find her."

Sibyl hummed softly, giving a masquerade of quiet thought. "I can't say I've seen her," he lied sadly, which was difficult, because he was actually _angry._ Still, he'd wait and see with Blake on this matter. For her sake, he hoped she had a good reason for running away from her partner.

"Listen, just… if you see her, please tell her to come back. For me, at least. Oh, and... we need to talk later."

Sibyl nodded, putting a hand on Yang's shoulder and squeezing softly. "I'm sure she'll return in time, and we can talk at a later point. Now, go rest. You look like an absolute mess."

Yang frowned, but it was a mirthful one. She gave him a solid slugging in the arm before turning around, sighing lightly and leaving his room. He slowly walked forward and closed the door she had left open, turning to Blake, who removed her ring with a curious stare at the mystifying fog.

"I do not enjoy lying, Blake. Now, we are going to leave tonight, lest your disgruntled team stumble into _my_ room while we sleep. You will rest, as will I, and when your mind has cleared, you _will_ explain this situation to me, correctly and concisely. Understood?"

The black-haired, cat-eared Huntress nodded, and Sibyl placed the Ring of Fog back onto his desk when she gave it back to him. Sibyl gave a long look at his own wares, deciding the Hard Leather armor would be suitable for whatever they might need to do.

He grabbed Solaire's straightsword from the wall, sheath included, quickly securing it around his waist. "Why are you bringing that?" Blake questioned, and Sibyl laughed lightly.

"I always travel prepared for the absolute worst, Blake."

* * *

They had slept in some run-down, abandoned apartment complex the night before. Sibyl had been right in that a night of rest did wonders for clearing her worries; Blake was thinking a _lot_ more clearly. A part of her even regretted running away, mostly because of Yang, but, if all went well, she'd be back in a day or two and could apologize then.

Blake calmly took a sip of her drink, staring at the two across from her who got along _very_ well, considering they'd met only roughly an hour ago. "And then, they called me a good-for-nothing thief!" Sun, the monkey Faunus they had run into yesterday down by the docks, explained. _How_ precisely Sun had managed to track Sibyl and herself down when they were on the way to the café they were currently sitting at was a bit beyond the black-haired Huntress-in-training, but _he_ had done so.

"Well, I disagree entirely. If you got away, you must be a _great_ thief," Sibyl commented, and Blake resisted the urge to groan. Sibyl was acting like he always did in Peter's class, and that was… really something, considering his usually clam, leisurely demeanor.

Sun slammed a fist on the table, laughing. "That's what I said!" Sibyl chuckled as well, reaching across the table and grabbing Sun's forearm up the elbow, pulling him in and bumping shoulders. Blake blinked, and Sun seemed a bit confused by the gesture, but upon seeing the massive grin on Sibyl's face, he grinned as well.

"I believe this to be the beginning of a great friendship, Sun," Sibyl decided, and Blake was hard-pressed to disagree. They had been buddy-buddy since they first met, Sibyl appreciating Sun's… sunny disposition. God, had she _really_ just thought that? She had been hanging out with Yang for _way_ too long.

"Hey, right back at you, big guy!" Sun said, removing his forearm from Sibyl's grasp slowly, "I'm here until the end of the festival, too, so we've got plenty of time to hang."

"Excellent," Sibyl said, and he really _did_ sound excited, "Perhaps you'd even fancy a spar?" He sounded like a child, trying not to get excited while they asked their parents something.

"Hell, yes! I bet you've got some _serious_ moves," Sun rambled, gesturing briefly to the longsword at Sibyl's hip, "Man, I'm _so_ glad I decided to-"

Clearing her throat, both boys turned to look at her. A moment after, their faces turned sheepish – well, Sun's did. Sibyl turned stone-faced and serious, leaning forward and gesturing with a hand for her to begin. She cocked a brow, a bit confused by the _instant_ change of attitude. "Please begin, Blake," he offered, his attention completely centered on her.

Right. Maybe _that_ was why she'd come to him. He was… odd, but extremely focused whenever he decided something _mattered._ It wasn't like they knew each other well enough to even be _friends,_ so there had to be a subconscious reason she'd come to him first _._ He had that odd curse, knew something about Fire Keepers, and while she was insanely curious, she was also too scared of him to ask about it. Maybe she was scared of what she'd discover, actually.

Shaking her head, Blake took a deep breath. "Right. Are you two familiar with the White Fang?" Blake questioned, and while it was clear Sibyl didn't know anything, _Sun_ did.

"There isn't a Faunus on the planet who _isn't_ familiar with them. A bunch of stupid, holier-than-thou jerks who use force to get whatever they want."

Blake gave Sun a flat stare, closing her eyes and exhaling through her nose.

"I was once part of the White Fang," she explained, reopening her eyes to see Sun coughing and with his own eyes widened considerably.

"I mean, that courageous bunch of freedom fighters, with a few bad apples in the mix? Yeah, of course I know about the White Fang!"

Ignoring Sun's attempted recovery, Blake turned to Sibyl. He very clearly _didn't_ know what the White Fang was. "The White Fang started out meaning well. I was… born into it, in a way. Things were different back then; it was a way for Faunus to try and bridge the gap after the Human-Faunus war. The goal was equal rights, unity, and respect." She sighed softly, turning to stare into her cup.

It really _had_ started out nice. He had started out nice, too, but… slowly and surely, things changed. Sibyl grunted lightly, adjusting himself in his seat before speaking. "A strong ideal, but ideals are just hopes, and hopes rarely come to fruition."

Her first instinct was to correct him, seeing as how he _wasn't_ a Faunus and had no right to speak on what they _had_ thought, yet she remembered her curse and swallowed the words before they came. Instead, she nodded. "We tried everything. Boycotts, protests, flyers… I was there for it all, at the front of every rally. I thought we were remaking a difference, but I was young and optimistic." It was another way to say young and foolish, but she liked to think it had done something, even if only for a few people. "Eventually, we started getting frustrated that the peaceful protests weren't doing anything. It led to our old leader stepping down five years ago, being replaced with someone more… aggressive.

"We decided if they wouldn't respect us as equals, they would fear us as ones. And it worked, too," she laughed bitterly, curling her fingers more closely around the cup in her hand. "We started with arson, theft, things like that, and only directed it at those who treated Faunus unfairly. We never murdered or did any _real_ terrorist actions. Well… not until recently, at least. That's when I left and decided to come here. To be a Huntress and make a _good_ difference in the world."

Sibyl stroked his chin before reaching across the table and placing a hand atop of hers. "I understand completely, so don't think I will judge you for your actions." She nodded slowly, calming down as Sibyl continued, "So, with that said, I fail to understand what this has to do with you running away from your teammates?"

Ah, right. That. Sibyl didn't understand the nuances of the Schnee family, and he only really knew Weiss as a student.

"Weiss… her family has a history with the White Fang, and it's not a nice one. She probably hates me now, since she knows I was a part of them. She thinks the White Fang are behind _every_ little theft and robbery that occurs! It's what sparked our fight down by the docks, a Dust store had been robbed and she _immediately_ blamed the Fang."

"Well, then it's quite simple," Sibyl explained, leaning back in his seat, "We find evidence, one way or another, about whether the White Fang are behind such robberies."

Blake opened her mouth just to close it again. "You're… you're going to help me? Just like that?" He nodded, turning to Sun and clapping him on the back.

"Of course I will. And, I do believe Sun shall be joining us?"

The blond Faunus nodded with a smirk, slapping Sibyl on the back just like had been done to him.

"You got that right. It'll be fun!"

The two laughed in unison, and Blake fought against the urge to smile. It was remarkably easy to do when she realized she had _absolutely_ no idea on how they'd prove the White Fang weren't behind the robberies.

"Thank you, but… how are we going to find out if the Fang is behind the robberies?"

Both boys had a thoughtful look on their faces at her words, though Sun's face quickly blossomed into something more concerning: a smug smirk.

"Well, that's easy. The only way to prove the White Fang _isn't_ behind the robberies is to be there when a Dust robbery is happening!" Sun explained, and Blake moved to rest her face in her palm. That much was obvious, but the nuances of _how_ they would do that was a bit more complex.

"Yes, Sun. But are we going to sit at every Dust shop in Vale to see if they arrive?"

"Well, while I was hiding away on the ship, I heard some guys talking about how there's a huge shipment of Dust coming in down by the docks tonight. The White Fang wouldn't miss it if they _are_ behind these robberies," Sun explained, and Blake decided maybe Sun wasn't as much of a ditz as she thought.

"Excellent," Sibyl commented, standing up and stretching. "We've more than a few hours until dusk, but it might be prudent to get there early. We can set up, discuss a plan of attack, even.

"Allow me to explain the spell Chameleon, as it will be key in setting up any sort of ambush…" Sibyl explained as they all got up, walking side by side. Blake took a deep breath, somewhat tuning out his words in favor of mentally preparing if the Fang _was_ behind this.

Sun put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, smirking confidently. Blake decided things just might turn out okay.

* * *

"That's amazing," Sun observed, slowly moving closer and poking Sibyl in the face. Not intentionally, of course. The spell Chameleon, another Oolacile special, had hidden him under the illusion of being a crate, much the same as those below in the docking bay. To Sun, he simply appeared as a moderately sized, metal crate.

"Indeed," he spoke, breaking the illusion and standing to his full height, as the cast did require the user to crouch or even lay down to match the height of the illusionary object. The three of them, Blake included, were waiting atop a roof overlooking the docks. He had proposed an ambush strategy by all of them hiding amidst the crates, but Blake seemed to hold the belief the White Fang would _not_ be showing up.

It was a shame. Leaping out of the Chameleon illusion and striking someone or something down was one of his favorite pastimes. Regardless of what brought him personal joy, he certainly hoped the White Fang would not be showing up, if only for Blake's sake. He _expected_ them to show up, however. He always expected the worst.

"Want an apple?" Sun offered, holding out one of the fruits for him. He nodded, catching the snack easily and not hesitating to take a bite out of it.

"Blake?" Sun offered one to her as well. She slowly turned to look at the blond, taking her eyes away from the docks and shaking her head.

"Do you have to steal everything?"

Sibyl rolled his eyes at Blake's words. Stealing, in his opinion, was hardly a crime worth getting angry over. Objects only had so much inherent worth, after all, and theft was nothing compared to murder.

"That's a bit ironic coming from a former terrorist," Sun bit back, instantly regretting it when Blake's face soured. "Too soon?" He questioned, turning to give Sibyl a glance.

The undead nodded, and Sun closed his eyes and sighed. Sibyl certainly felt his pain; interacting with people was difficult at the best of times, doubly so for those of the opposite sex. His thoughts briefly drifted to Pyrrha, but he dismissed them. Blake was his focus at the moment, and resolving her issues came before his romantic desires.

As Sibyl opened his mouth to speak, something flew overhead, the force left behind from its path loud and powerful enough he nearly stumbled. His one good eye instantly went to the sky, and he saw a bright, shining light coming from… something. After a closer inspection, he realized it was one of those Dropships which he had seen a few times since his arrival here.

Crouching, the undead moved next to Sun and Blake on the edge of the roof, carefully observing as the ship moved and landed in the docks. Its hatch opened, creating a ramp to the floor. A moment later, a few people walked out, though he had trouble making out exact details in the relative dark.

"It's them," Blake observed, and Sibyl frowned lightly. It made sense she could see things in this lighting; Faunus were supposed to have excellent night vision. His thoughts quickly turned to the fact that the White Fang _had_ arrived. It was unfortunate, but most things in life were.

"You really didn't think it was them, did you?" Sun asked, and Blake shook her head sadly.

"No, I think deep down I knew. I just didn't want it to be true."

Sibyl grunted, slowly standing up. "Understandable, but-"

"What's the hold up?! We're not exactly the most inconspicuous bunch of thieves at the moment, so why don't you animals pick up the pace?"

It was a voice he had trouble placing for obvious reasons, but when the man walked down the ramp, Sibyl recognized the orange hair and white suit, even in the dark. It was the man from that projection device he had seen on his first day to Beacon.

"This isn't right," Blake muttered, standing up. "The White Fang would never work with a human, much less a racist!" The black-haired Huntress-in-training leapt off the edge of the roof as Sun shouted for her to stop. Sibyl chuckled lightly, reaching for his catalyst and casting both Hidden Body and Hush, the combination a classic for sneaking.

"Let us go, Sun. It is time to _kick ass,_ as they say." He didn't wait for his response before jumping off the edge of the roof much like Blake had, landing with a roll before dashing forward. He saw Blake had already rushed forward ahead and was hiding behind one of those large, metal crates. Sibyl did the same, lining up across from her, prepared to assist Blake in whatever she needed.

He held his breath as she rushed forward from behind, grabbing hold of the 'infamous' criminal and putting a blade to his throat. He nearly clapped in approval, but that would have given away his position. Instead, he cheered internally. It was nice to finally see a Beacon student be _truly_ cutthroat.

 _'Heh. Cutthroat…'_ He stiffened his own snicker at the pun.

"Brothers of the White Fang, why are you assisting this scum?"

The members of the Fang spared a look at Blake's words, a few grunting, but none moved their gun's aim away from the Huntress and her hostage.

"Guess you didn't get the memo, kid," Roman explained, far too smug for someone who could be killed at any moment, "The White Fang and I are going in on a joint business venture together. Us business capitalists have to stick together, you know?"

Before Blake could ask any more about what the hell Roman was talking about, two more Dropships flew overhead. Sibyl decided he needed to see if he could take at least one of them down before anything else. As he raised his catalyst to cast Crystal Soul Spear, Roman shot something out of the end of his cane, forcing Blake back and away from him. Sibyl finished his cast, the teal, crystal energy echoing loudly as it traveled through the air, slamming into one of the turbines of the Dropship and shattering.

As flames and an explosion sounded, the ship came crashing down, knocking over a few crates which only sparked an even _larger_ explosion. The undead smiled, unsheathing the longsword at his side and conjuring an idle flame in his off-hand. Sibyl was prepared to do what he did best: fight.

* * *

Ruby sighed lightly, eyes shifting from the ground to the sky, before turning to Penny. The girl had been eager to help Ruby try and find Blake, and the help was definitely welcome. She was… a nice girl, if _really_ odd. They'd met the other day at the docks, the same day Weiss and Blake started fighting about Faunus or whatever.

Her expression turned sour at the thought of Blake. Why had she run from them? They were her team! They were supposed to stick together, yet… she'd just _left_ them without any hesitation. A part of Ruby wanted to blame Weiss, but that was unfair. A leader had to take responsibility for these things.

Blake had apparently never been comfortable enough with them to reveal she was a Faunus, and that fell on Ruby as the team leader. She should have done better, make sure Blake was more comfortable. She always so quiet – it should have been obvious everything wasn't fine! But, things _would_ be fine, as soon as they found Blake, and-

As a massive explosion sounded, Ruby looked back over her shoulder. There was a large, black cloud in the sky, far across the city. It would take them awhile to get there, but… well, she somehow had a feeling Blake was involved. "Come on, Penny! We have a day to save!"

"Sen-sa-tio-nal!"

* * *

"All I'm asking is how can we trust her? She clearly didn't trust us enough to reveal-" Yang tuned out the rest of the Schnee Heiress's words, resisting the urge to _slug_ her in the face. She only managed to barely hold it back, as the desire was _really_ strong.

Weiss was pissing her off, and she was about ready to cast Combustion right in her face. Sibyl was right; pyromancers and sorcerers _were_ the exact opposite, which made the fact he taught both even odder. "Maybe she didn't trust us because _you_ hate Faunus?!" Yang hissed, stomping lightly as her hair lit up in flames due to her semblance. Yang stared at Weiss's blue eyes for a few moments before taking a deep breath, running a hand through her hair.

"Sorry, Weiss. I'm just frustrated. That's _my_ partner out there, alone thinking we all _hate_ her because she's a Faunus and used to be part of the White Fang!" Why hadn't Blake told her? They were partners; they were supposed to depend on each other, even before they depended on the rest of their team! Yet, Blake had just… _ran_ away.

Everything had been coming apart lately. She still hadn't apologized to Fireball, and was working up the courage to do so, when all of _this_ happened. It was a complete disaster, and it was going to remain a disaster until she figured out if her partner was safe and alive.

"…I want to find Blake, too. There _has_ to be a reason she was a part of those terrorists. She's too… nice otherwise." Weiss hugged herself lightly, staring at the ground. Yang sighed, turning to turn up at the sky-

A massive explosion sounded, coming down from the docks. Yang blinked, turning to look at Weiss. They nodded in unison, and the two were already sprinting.

 _'Don't worry, Blake. We're coming!'_

* * *

Sibyl ducked below a lazy sword swing, slashing upwards before kicking out with his foot, sending the grunt in front of him lying back. He promptly spun around, catching the axe meant for his back with his freehand, pulling the man holding it forward and slamming his blade into the goon's stomach. He kicked him off his blade without hesitation, a bit of blood coming out of the fool's chest with the motion, and so he added this one to the list of his kills. Not _everyone_ he battled would die, of course, but he had wounded a few harshly enough that life was a quickly becoming a fleeting prospect.

Aura was quite remarkable, and kept more than the idiots alive than he would have liked.

His eyes scanned the battlefield, seeing Blake battling Torchwick while Sun handled a large majority of the grunts. Ideally, he would be able to assist the cat Faunus soon, because she was _losing._ Eventually, his eyes turned to the final Dropship overhead, one which he would take down as soon as the chance showed itself.

For now, blinding it would do. Casting Poison Mist, he spewed upwards, the purple cloud spreading far over top of them. He smirked, thanking his pyromancy for not the first time-

Sibyl felt his instincts _flare,_ and it was only thanks to countless experience he managed to raise his blade to block the overhead slash which would have beheaded him. Instead, he pushed off when steel met steel, sending the bastard who saw fit to attack him back. The mask-wearing redhead, now that Sibyl got a good look at him, slid to stop before standing. He had two things protruding from his head: a pair of horns, perhaps?

Sliding his foot back into a readier stance, Sibyl waited for the guard to rush him.

It never happened; instead, the enigma walked forward slowly.

"Sibyl, is it?"

Blinking, at the fact that the absolute stranger in front of him knew his name, he nonetheless nodded.

"I've been waiting to meet you for a long time. I've read a lot about you, about your journey and deeds." The figure slowed to a stop, drawing his blade from its scabbard. It seemed to be an eastern blade, much like the ones Shiva favored. "But I've always been curious; how true were they?"

"If you doubt my skills, fool, then come closer and face me." Sibyl was concerned, but he'd never let it show. How did this man know about him? He came from another blasted world! It was an impossibility, and yet… here they were. He'd have to be sure to capture this one.

"I'm Adam Taurus," he introduced, inclining his head lightly. Sibyl would have laughed, but instead he spat on the ground, disgusted. This was no duel of honor; this was a battle.

"I hardly care. Shut up and fight!" Sibyl rushed forward, preparing a fire ball in his left hand which was hidden behind his back. Adam rushed forward to meet him, sidestepping at the last moment as Sibyl feinted back, tossing his Chaos Fireball underhanded at the ground he'd been standing upon.

They closed the brief distance instantly, fighting alongside the puddle of lava on the ground. Sibyl blocked a strike directed at his midsection while bringing his left hand forward; fire surging from his palm, forcing Adam to redirect the undead's longsword. Sibyl, putting too much force into his attack, was sent stumbling forward… intentionally. It was a trap.

As he stumbled forward, he smirked, bringing his left hand which was spewing fire forward and slamming it into the ground. The cast changed instantly, allowing great pillars of red Chaos Flame to rise. As they rose up around him, he waited for just a moment before sprinting through the fire, ignoring the light singe it gave his skin and armor. Adam had cleared the space and was waiting patiently when he exited the fire.

They exchanged a flurry of blows, Adam attempting to skewer him with a thrust which Sibyl redirected with his open hand, countering with an overhead swing meant to cut into the outstretched arm of his opponent. Adam turned his wrist, redirecting the blade from a thrust into an overhead guard, catching Sibyl's own longsword.

In a battle of brute strength, the Faunus was no match. Sibyl quickly overpowered him, landing a slash across his opponent's chest for his efforts. Not wanting to let up the pressure, Sibyl stayed right behind Adam, slashing and cutting, but each strike was parried or blocked expertly.

"You are _everything_ I expected and more!" Adam screamed as Sibyl brought his left hand forward in a Great Combustion cast; Adam leapt over him, dodging the pyromancy explosion and attempting to cut downwards and across his back. Sibyl rolled forward, bringing his feet out and sliding them along the ground to help slingshot him back around. He only just managed to block the thrust meant for his chest, redirecting it up and to the side, right past his shoulder.

Deciding to brute-force it, Sibyl charged forward, slamming his iron-plated shoulder paldron against Adam's torso and bringing his free hand to try and grab the Faunus in a chokehold. It failed as Adam ducked, moving _his_ free hand forward in an open palm and slamming it into Sibyl's throat. The undead was forced to let go, choking briefly and trying to get his lungs under control.

"We are going to change the world," Adam explained, slowly and without concern that they were in a fight, "You are the missing piece I need for revolution. I was such a fool, wasting so many resources to try and recreate them, when I didn't even have a fire on par with the First Flame or Chaos Flame!"

Sibyl scrunched a brow in confusion, not understanding a word the maniac in front of him was uttering.

"How do you know about those flames?" He ventured a question, and Adam wasted no time to respond. He got excited, even.

"Your dear friend Logan. His books were _very_ informative. I only wish I could have met the man, but you'll have to work as a replacement."

Sibyl was very confused, but it suddenly hit him, and for the first time in a long time, he saw red. This maniac in front of him had Logan's books? Sibyl had always wondered where they went, as damn near the whole room Logan had trapped himself in the Duke Archives was found bare when he went looking for his teacher. Somehow, they ended up here.

But how? He racked his brain, trying to remember any details which might help make sense. Eventually, it hit him: his teacher had been experimenting with adapting the Homeward miracle into a soul spell, as apparently Seathe had tried to do so, too. Something about trying to track down the last of his fellow dragon-kind, but the Chosen Undead preferred not to think about that crazed, scaleless dragon as anything except something he had killed.

Still, the Homeward miracle. Was that how he got here? He had been unconscious, of course, but it was possible that the Homeward Bone interacting with Dusk triggered whatever sent him here. Dusk was an inherently magical being; a Homeward Bone functioned the same as the miracle. It was obscene and unlikely, but so was being here in the first place! It was the first lead he had since his arrival, and Sibyl cursed the fact he hardly knew much about the more notorious Way of White miracles. They could be the key to returning to Lordran! Logan _must_ have discovered something in his madness to send his collection here.

Speaking of his former teacher, his books contained... sensitive information. Logan had always been discussing history and theories. The man in front of him likely had no good plans with the information provided. And so, Sibyl decided this fight had gone on long enough.

Slamming a palm against his chest, he allowed the pyromancy Power Within to take effect. He felt lighter, stronger, faster, but he could feel as it began to drain him, too. Sibyl, faster than before, stormed across the area between himself and Adam, slashing twice in rapid succession. Both strikes were dodged, and his blade ended up a few inches off the ground, but they weren't meant to hit anyways.

With his blade inches from the ground, he slashed along it, sparks flying as he brought his sword upwards. It was meant to distract; he grabbed the talisman at his hip, Solaire's talisman, and conjured a lightning bolt faster than anyone except Gwyn himself could manage. Adam flinched lightly upon seeing it, as he was stuck holding down Sibyl's blade. He could not dodge or avoid it, lest he open himself up.

With nothing else to do, Sibyl slammed the lightning bolt forward straight into Adam's chest; he took it valiantly, shaking lightly but still managing to hold Sibyl's longsword down. Sibyl growled, bringing his foot forward and kicking Adam in the chest so hard it would cave in most people's sternum. Adam skidded along the ground lightly, rolling back onto his feet.

Sibyl had already conjured another miracle: Emit Force, an outward miracle and a variant of the Force cast. By the time Adam realized what was flying through the air at him, it was too late to dodge. It slammed straight into his chest, sending him even further back.

The Chosen Undead was ready to continue the assault, as Adam was still shaking off his grogginess and rising back to his own feet. But that was cut short when Sun _quickly_ entered his vision, flying past before slamming hard against one of the metal crates. Sibyl blinked, the reality of what had just happened finally catching up with him.

The sound echoed and was enough to get both his own and Adam's attention. Sibyl cursed at seeing his opponent's focus had shifted to Sun; the single-horned Faunus was too far away for Sibyl to accurately prepare a proper defense.

Regardless of that, the undead was already sprinting. He slid to a stop as Adam's blade was removed from its sheath, and right before the blade connected with his body, then protecting Sun's own, disoriented one, he managed to cast Iron Flesh.

Still, the cast only did so much to lighten the attack. Sibyl could _still_ feel his flesh get cut, slashed, and even pierced as Adam followed up his initial, _very_ powerful strike with a few quicker ones. His mouth opened in a silent cry of pain, which he quickly bit down. As the pain subsided and Adam took a step back, Sibyl growled, the abyss beneath his eye coming alive with the anger.

"You'll have to do better than that," he hissed out, a bit of blood coming with the words.

Adam shook his head slowly in amazement, eventually laughing. "Remarkable, just… remarkable. You laid your life out to protect a Faunus; you're practically _already_ apart of the White Fang. Hopefully, when you awaken, things will make more sense. You might even be eager to help."

Sibyl raised an eyebrow, a bit amused by the Faunus in front of him. "You act so sure of victory, yet I still stand."

"Yeah, me too," Sun added, finally rising back to his feet and getting into a rough combat stance. It was clear he wasn't entirely there, but Sibyl admired his resolve if nothing else. He was glad to have met the Faunus, even with how brief their stink together had been. Sun was a fine fellow, befitting of his name.

"Hey, don't forget about me!" Roman voiced from the left of both of them – in the blind spot his eye provided, even if he had trained enough it didn't affect him in combat much anymore, "Cat's back in the bag; I'm still devilishly handsome, and we've got a Dropship to catch, 'ya filthy animals."

Sibyl slowly turned his eyes that way, seeing Blake hung over Roman's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Sun… I want you to run," he informed, simultaneously falling to his knees and casting the largest Chaos Storm he could manage, straining his very soul to try and keep the wild fires to _not_ spawn beneath Sun.

It was very difficult, but he managed to do it. Sun didn't immediately take his words to heart, instead trying to grab Sibyl and carry him. It was all but impossible, given the cast of Iron Flesh was still active. He was far too heavy.

"Sun! You will leave, you will inform Blake's team of what has happened, _as well as_ Glynda Goodwitch. I will take care of myself and Blake. Do not worry."

Sun hesitated, biting his lip but nevertheless taking his words to heed and leaving the immediate vicinity. Sibyl stared through as the flames dissipated and cursed upon seeing Roman with his cane extended and pointing directly at him.

Sibyl passed out the moment it exploded against his chest.

* * *

Yang was breathing heavily by the time she reached the docks, Weiss right on her tail. If Blake was going to be anywhere, it was going to be here. The only issue, then, was that it was empty. Sure, there was a Dropship burning in the background; crates were thrown around, burnt or otherwise destroyed. All in all, it looked as if there had been a freakin' war, but no one was actually _there._

Well, no one was there except one person. Yang squinted, trying to get a closer look at whoever was sitting there on the ground. After a few moments of focus, she realized _just_ who it was: that Faunus from the docks, the one who sorta'started all of this.

Storming forward, Yang grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close. "You! Where the hell is Blake?!"

The monkey Faunus shook his head, muttering something under his breath. Yang cursed, throwing him back to the ground and running a hand through her hair.

This was bad. This was _very, very_ bad, and she hardly-

"Yang? What's going on? I heard an explosion," Ruby spoke, and Yang blinked. Her sister was here, too? Wait, of course Ruby was here. They were all looking for Blake, they'd just split up. Yang sighed, turning to her precious baby sister. She was breathing heavily too, a clear indication that she had sprinted all the way here, just like Yang and Weiss had.

Penny was behind her, oddly _not_ all that winded. Maybe she really _was_ a Huntress-in-training, but that didn't matter. What mattered was explaining the situation.

"I don't know, Ruby. Me and Weiss just got here; Monkey Boy is the only one here." She turned her gaze back to the blond Faunus, deciding he needed to explain just _what_ the hell had happened. "What happened?" She asked, deciding to be a bit… nicer.

It might have had some effect, as the Faunus sighed, lying flat on his back and staring up at the stars.

"They're gone. It's all my fault – God, I'm such an idiot!" He cursed, slamming his fist into the concrete beside him. Yang could feel her heart quicken, but she tried not to jump to any immediate conclusions.

"Who? What did you do with Blake?!" Weiss hissed, stomping forward and showing the first _ounce_ of concern about Blake since this whole incident began.

"It wasn't just her. A guy named Sibyl was here too, and… and he protected me. I would be dead without him, and now… they're gone."

Yang felt her breath leave her, and she stumbled a bit. Sibyl had been helping Blake? Blake had come to Sibyl _before_ her?!

Sibyl was _dead,_ it seemed, and she hadn't even apologized, not to mention what might have happened to Blake.

"They're… dead?" Weiss whispered, just as shaken as Yang.

"Maybe, I don't know… I don't know! They got captured, I guess. The stupid White Fang showed up, with Roman Torchwick and some weird guy with a katana. He was _really_ good, even gave Sibyl a run for his money, but Sibyl was winning until Roman blasted me back. That guy pounced on me, and Sibyl moved in front to stop it. He was a sitting target! Damn it!" The Faunus covered his face with two hands, trying to keep his choked breath down.

"They were captured?" Ruby asked quietly and got a nod in return, as Sun was listening beneath the two hands shielding his face.

"Then they're as good as dead if we don't find them soon," Weiss informed, sniffing lightly.

Yang wasn't even paying attention; Sibyl and Blake were both captured by the White Fang? Her teacher _and_ her partner? Who the hell was even strong enough to beat Sibyl, anyways? He was a damn machine. Then again, the monkey Faunus had said Sibyl got hurt protecting him…

That was just like the idiot, always throwing himself into danger.

"…err, who is Sibyl?" Penny asked, looking between the group curiously.

Yang swallowed the lump in her throat to try and speak, but it didn't come out.

"Someone who will be dead soon if we don't act," Weiss reiterated, her own voice… chippy and cold.

"Right," The blond Faunus mumbled, finally pushing himself off the ground. "Sibyl distracted them all to let me get away. He said to find Glynda and you guys, and that he'd make sure Blake and him got out alright from _wherever_ they're going. Name's Sun Wukong, by the way."

"Alright," Yang finally spoke, her voice almost under control, "If anyone is going to make sure they come out of this okay, it's Fireball. But we're sure as hell not going to leave them to rot. We'll get Glynda. From there, we're going to find Blake and Sibyl, and kick White Fang's ass."

Yang knew one thing: if Sibyl and Blake weren't alright, she was going to kill every single White Fang member she could find.


	9. Dim Hope

_**What's up, friends? Here with chapter 9, beta'd by my partner in crime,**_ _ **ekaterina016. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and again, if you have any thoughts, criticisms, or whatever else, feel free to message me or leave a review. Otherwise, sit back, read, and enjoy.**_

 ** _Also, I'm getting a motorcycle. A Kawasaki Ninja 250R from my friend, after I take my motorcycle safety course in a week and get my license. So, yeah, that's pretty exciting. I've also managed to cut my weight from 195 to 180 in preparation for joining the military this fall, and I'm rather happy about that. Finally shedding some excess (bad) Football weight. I hope you're all having a good week and life!_**

 ** _Anyways, here it is:_**

* * *

Blake awoke slowly; a massive, ringing ache throbbing at the back of her head was the only thing she was immediately aware of. In no time at all, she had raised both hands and clutched at the sides of her head, curling up further into a ball to try and lighten the pain. After around ten seconds of light groaning and moaning, she realized it wasn't working, and begrudgingly, she uncurled and took a glance at her surroundings. She was in a... nice, if plain room. When her eyes caught the light fixture overhead, she snapped her eyelids shut and rolled over, slamming her face against the bed. Eventually, after a few moments, she rolled back over and scanned the room more closely. The cat Faunus blinked at what she saw, because it wasn't _her_ team's room, neither was it the hotel herself, Sibyl, and Sun had been staying at-

Gasping, Blake finally realized _why_ she felt so awful and why her body was so sore. It hit her in an instant, exactly what _had_ happened. They'd been at the docks, fighting the White Fang. Sibyl... Sibyl had been facing _him,_ while she and Sun tried to take on Roman, who the White Fang was working with for some reason. She had lost, taking a cane swipe to the back of her head from Roman after Sun had gotten blasted away. Had Sibyl managed to win, despite the long odds? She wouldn't put it past him, but Adam... Adam was a monster.

Sibyl was incredibly strong, but if forced to fight Roman _and_ Adam, she doubted he'd even manage to get out alive. Wait... had Sun and Sibyl lived? It made sense they'd spare her, because Adam was beyond obsessed, but what about Sibyl and Sun? Had she... had she gotten those two _killed?_ Blake choked, eyes widening at the very thought. She slowly forced herself off the bed she'd been sitting on, stumbling lightly. Why had she gotten them involved?! Why had she even _gone_ down to confront Roman in the first place?! They were just supposed to investigate! They weren't supposed to interfere.

It was all her fault; if she'd just been more patient, if she'd just _called her team,_ talked things out, then maybe she wouldn't have-

"Hello, my little Keeper," a familiar voice whispered, and Blake nearly jumped out of her own skin. She turned in an instant, reaching for the weapon at her back which _wasn't there._ It was the knowledge that she had _nothing_ to defend herself which made her freeze, hand resting where the phantom blade would have been. It left her staring at him, trying and mostly succeeding in stopping herself from shaking. He was just like she remembered, standing tall with red hair like the devil. He had a soft smile on his face, showing just how _happy_ he was to see her. She frowned, not one of sadness, but one of fear and anxiety.

Fighting against her own fear, she dared to speak. "Where's Sibyl and Sun?"

Adam hummed, turning his back to her in a taunt _._ He knew she couldn't do anything, so he gave the _perfect_ opening. Grinding her teeth, she waited for him to respond. She didn't dare move.

"Sibyl's near. A Keeper should never stray too far from her fire, after all."

Blake breathed in relief, glad she hadn't gotten _him_ killed, but tensed up at the realization her former mentor had said absolutely _nothing_ about Sun. As if reading her thoughts, Adam paused, glancing over his shoulder back at her. "As for our fellow Faunus, well... Sibyl's gained my respect, even more than before." Blake rose a brow, a bit confused on just _how_ Adam knew the odd, cursed boy. Well, then again, she may have just been talking about how well he fought. "He threw himself in front of Sun to protect him against my Moonslice, and it _didn't_ kill him, at that."

"You tried to _kill_ Sun?!" Blake hissed, nearly throwing herself forward to attack him. Only nearly, however, as the fear she felt was greater than the anger.

"Oh, my little Keeper. I _knew_ Sibyl would throw himself in front. It was a calculated risk, one which worked out perfectly." Adam paused, tilting his head lightly. "Even if the Sun boy _had_ died, it would have been for a worthy cause."

"You're disgusting," she declared, voice scathing.

Adam laughed, dismissing the words without worry. Why should he worry, anyways? She was alone without her weapon, and her Aura meant there was absolutely nothing she could do besides _speak._

"Even after all this time, you haven't changed a _bit._ I wouldn't have it any other way, really. Keepers are supposed to be pure – and you are so very, _very_ pure." He walked closer, brushing his palm against her cheek. She quickly slapped it away, taking a step back and trying to keep her heartbeat down. Adam stared at his own hand for a few seconds, shrugging before returning it to his side.

"One way or another, I'll get what I want. And then, you will watch as I destroy _everything_ you hold dear. Perhaps _then_ you will fully commit yourself to the cause."

Blake shook her head, backing up until she eventually found her back against the wall itself. "You're a monster," she spat, voice cracking.

"No. I am a savior, a usurper. From the Flames we will rise up, stronger than before. Stronger than even the threat of Grimm; stronger than any human could ever _hope_ to be. We will push them back, eradicate the darkness which threatens our very existence. Perhaps," he paused, grinning lightly, "after that, we can deal with the threat of the Grimm."

How had she _ever_ seen anything worth loving in him?

Adam made closer to the door, stopping just outside of it and turning back to her. "Don't try anything, Blake. I have to go meet our other guest, and I _really_ don't want to remove your tongue or foot, but if I must to teach you the lesson to _stay put,_ I will." With nothing more to say, he shut the door, and Blake was left well and truly alone.

She collapsed, sliding down the wall she sat against, pulling her legs close and tucking her head against her knees. Tears began to form, and Blake realized just how _great_ life had been for the past few months. She'd been enjoying it, but not enough as she should have been, clearly. She'd gotten _used_ to the comfort, to the warm gestures. She'd gotten used to her _friends._

Blake longed for the comfort of her dorm room; she wished she could hear Yang's obnoxious snoring and roll her eyes. She wished Ruby would have woken her up with that stupid whistle, blaring it for longer than necessary. She even wished to hear Weiss mutter under her breath about 'dunces' and being surrounded by them. Sun making some immature joke or stealing a bundle of grapes would have been nice, holding out a hand to offer the pilfered fruit to her. Mostly, she wished Sibyl was in the room with her, because then, just maybe, she might have felt a little safe and not so alone.

Rasping cries could be heard coming from within the room, off and on, but none dared enter to comfort.

* * *

He was everything Adam had expected, which was odd, because so rarely did people meet his high expectations. But Sibyl... Sibyl was great. He was built like a brute, yet tactical like a warrior, not to mention possessing an underlying intelligence which had to be there for him to be able to utilize all three of the great magics so fluidly. It had been impressive, watching him first using sorcery to take down one Dropship, then pyromancy to blind the other. He was skilled in combat, from the blade to the dirtier aspects, but even more impressive was his versatility. He'd read about it a little bit, of course, but even in Logan's books, the details had been... sparse. He had hardly expected that odd, nearly-invisible force to slam into him near the end of their fight.

All he had known about Sibyl previously had come from Logan's books, and it had been enough to let him know that Sibyl was incredibly strong, and that he was the so-called Chosen Undead. Adam was hard-pressed to disagree. If anyone was chosen for something great, it was him. He was an incredible sight, and Adam had no small appreciation for the number of scars lining his torso and body. He was someone who had _worked_ to get where he was, just like the bull Faunus. So yes, Adam admired the young man in front of him, even in his dismayed state just _hanging_ on the wall. He frowned at the sight, even, because someone as important as the being in front of him should never be reduced to what he was at the moment. Still, it was a necessary precaution, as he didn't doubt Sibyl had even more tricks up his sleeve that could disrupt and delay his plans.

In a show of respect, however, Adam had left the undead's eyepatch on. It was the least he could do for the soul which would ignite a revolution the likes of which could hardly be imagined, and as a small sorry for what would happen to him tonight. Sibyl was too powerful to be kept in a healthy state; he needed to be... roughed up.

"Wake him up," Adam commanded to his lieutenant, as loyal a companion one could ask for, far more so than Blake, who had abandoned their cause. Abandoned _him,_ but he had her back again. His little Keeper, who was just as key in all of this as Sibyl. Not _quite_ as important, but still a critical piece. Why, it was as if fate itself was on his side! The two had been paired together, just as how a Keeper and her Flame should be. Everything had come together _perfectly._

He tried to watch impassively as Sibyl sputtered awake, a bucket of cold water splashing against his face, but couldn't. It was impossible to keep his grin in check. The undead slowly finished his coughing, glancing up and around, blinking his one eye to try and get the last of the water out of it. His face quickly turned from confused to a scowl the _moment_ their eyes met, even beneath Adam's own mask. Sibyl truly did have a piercing gaze, even with just one eye.

The undead jerked forward against his chains, behaving like a wild animal as he growled darkly. It was sad to watch, and Adam shook his head slowly. "A great champion like yourself, rendered to... _this."_ He gestured with an open palm, looking to push a few of Sibyl's buttons.

He jerked forward again, spitting at Adam. The liquid saliva smacked against his chest, but the Faunus paid no attention as Sibyl began to speak. "If you think _I_ am a sad sight at the moment, I cannot waituntil you've been renderedto little more than _ashes_."

Adam clapped lightly, walking closer to the Fang's newest guest. "Such passion and determination. Captured and caged, yet so sure of victory. It's no wonder you're _chosen,"_ he prodded, beckoning his prisoner to say more. He wanted to know more about what being _chosen_ entailed, and if he was lucky, his... angry friend would reveal it.

"The only thing I'm chosen for is to end your life!" He hissed, jerking his right hand forward to try and grab Adam's throat. The appendage hardly moved more than a few inches, and Adam turned his head to stare at the way his hand opened and closed into a fist. With the chains holding him against the wall and stopping any attempts, the great warrior looked like a child in a timeout corner. Adam had taken all the necessary precautions to ensure everything went smoothly, even after he left to prepare the Dropship later that very day. He wouldn't dare beckon a Flame in his own, personal hidden research base. No one else, outside of those he trusted within his division, knew about it. Not even Sienna on the High Council.

Adam frowned when Sibyl didn't say anything more about him being chosen. It was a shame the undead had more control over his mouth than others he had captured, because if there was anything in the world Adam was fascinated with, it was Lordran.

Still, Lordran was a world away. What mattered was where they were _now._

"Oh, you're chosen for much greater things," Adam began, unable to stop the frown from marring his features. "I wasted so much time on those... those _failures,_ those worthless piles of trash! Some were even once _worth_ something, members of our very own Fang. They volunteered, and I failed them." He clenched his fists, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. "I was stupid, young and trying to _rush_ things, when I should have just been patient. They paid the price, and I regret that to this day. Yet, it's not all lost."

Taking a deep breath, Adam recomposed himself. "You're here, in this world so far beyond you, because we're connected."

Sibyl scoffed, turning his head to the ground and laughing. His prisoner was _laughing_ at him. Him! The one who was chained against the wall laughed at the man who _put him there._ Adam grit his teeth, marching forward and grabbing the bastard by his throat, squeezing tightly. Sibyl choked, but the hate in his eyes never faded. "It's not polite to _laugh,"_ he reiterated, and Sibyl tried to headbutt him. He tightened his hold, but it was clear the undead didn't care even as his face turned blue, and he instinctively began to shake.

Fine. They would have to get more severe until Sibyl had the proper respect. Besides, this would help limit his capabilities if he decided to try and fight.

Gesturing to his lieutenant, Adam didn't remove his hand from the undead's throat. He held tightly, releasing just enough he could hear Sibyl _scream_ when the fun began. "You're important, Sibyl. _Very_ important, but I don't need you in pristine condition." His lieutenant grabbed the jagged blade, forged with the intent of being pushed through then _pulled_ out. Adam was given the blade a moment thereafter, and he was sure to stare directly at Sibyl's good eye when he slammed it through his thigh, twisting and turning the blade before _pulling._

All the undead did was grunt, albeit _very_ loudly, and grind his teeth together. Adam cursed, stabbing the blade through again and again at different angles in the hopes of hearing _something,_ but nothing came. Just the same damnable grunt and the sound of wet flesh tearing. Blood splattered up and against Adam's face, not to mention bathing his torso and pants in it, but he didn't bother to clean it off. Instead, he took a step back, turning to stare at the wounds he'd caused.

There were now holes all over Sibyl's thigh, from its front to its side, and he saw shavings of bone sticking to the torn flesh which hung loosely along the edges of the piercing stabs, shredded and torn like cheese. Blood was beginning to pile up rapidly on the floor, and Adam realized he'd hardly have a chance to talk to Sibyl if he passed out. "'Wrap the wound while we speak."

His lieutenant nodded, and Adam turned to stare at Sibyl again. "He is going to make you scream tonight. I'll have to get it recorded," he added, tone cold. Slowly, he removed his hand from Sibyl's throat, and the undead wasted _no_ time laughing again. Adam didn't waste time, either, as he stepped forward and forced his prisoner's elbow, fully extended thanks to the chain his wrist rested within, _up,_ snapping the bone at the joint and bending the arm unnaturally.

"Y-You are pathetic," Sibyl declared with his eyes slammed shut, resting his head back against the wall and continuing to chuckle.

"You can think what you will. It'll hardly matters when you're in torment, soul burning and a fire is being forged." Adam waited for a reaction, but he didn't get one. Deciding to... twist the truth, he cleared his throat. "Your friend Sun certainly didn't think me pathetic when my lieutenant put him through similar treatment _._ "

Sibyl froze lightly, his eyes widening lightly. Adam was happy to see the tables had turned, and so he taunted. "Oh, it hurt me to do it to a fellow Faunus, but my lieutenant certainly enjoyed it." Sibyl growled, and Adam laughed, leaning forward. "What? Suddenly concerned?"

"Just what are you trying to-" the undead grunted briefly as his wound was cleaned, trying in vain to kick at Adam's lieutenant with his knee. Adam rolled his eyes at the shenanigans, but Sibyl got back on focus with a shake of his head. "What are you trying to do?"

Adam sighed happily, reaching a hand up and running it through Sibyl's hair. "I'm going to use _your_ soul," he grabbed the undead's hair, pulling hard and slamming his head back against the wall, "to create a Flame, the likes of which may even be greater than the ones detailed in Logan's books."

Sibyl laughed, glaring at him through the heartfelt chuckles. "You're a fool, then. My soul is hardly great enough for that, and besides, such an attempt would only end in disaster for you. So please, in the event I _don't_ kill you, do try it."

Adam nodded lightly, expecting the words which had been spoken long before they ever left Sibyl's mouth. Everyone thought him a fool – even Logan's books, the earlier ones, mind you, dismissed the possibility of creating a Flame on par with the First and Chaos Flame. Adam could recall the words exactly.

" _Preposterous and idiotic. Not only would it be impossible to find a soul with great enough energy to come anywhere near either of the first two Flames; whoever tried would be stumbling around in the dark. It could only ever end in disaster._ That is what your teacher said in his books on creating such a Flame," Adam revealed, stepping closer. "But then, he discovered a mind greater than _his._ A dragon, Seathe, and an archives filled to the brim with his knowledge. Some of those books even made the journey, though it took me years to finally understand the odd language they're written in."

The undead still _laughed_ at him. "The Witch of Izalith and her daughters couldn't recreate the flame. What hope do you have?" Adam finally got his chance to laugh, and so he did.

"You really think them and them alone tried to recreate the Flame? No, Seathe was there all the while, assisting and _documenting_. I know what mistakes to not make, you sorry fool." Sibyl glared at him, but Adam didn't miss the way he kept trying to keep his brow from creasing. So he _was_ worried, behind all of his confident mannerisms. "You've undergone quite the journey. Killed many, from legends people perceived as greater. You grew stronger, and your soul did, too. But it's not just _your_ soul you carry, is it?" Silence was all Adam got as an answer, but the silence was _very_ informative. "Together, you'll be more than enough to create what I need."

"You've undergone quite the journey. Killed many, legendary figures people perceived as greater. You grew stronger, and your soul did, too. But it's not just _your_ soul you carry, is it?" Silence was all Adam got as an answer, but the silence was _very_ informative. "Together, you'll be more than enough to create what I need."

Sibyl shook his head, and Adam let go of his hair, taking a step back. "In the end, it doesn't matter what you think. Did you know, in the end of his journals, Logan was planning on killing you? He was quite miffed you had killed Seathe, and wanted the soul of the scaleless dragon to try and create a... similar incident as the first Flame, so it might transform him into a _true_ dragon, much like it apparently did to those in Izalith."

"He was mad and insane; you must have missed the part where he thought his naked self to _be_ a dragon."

Adam shrugged, not very concerned with the details Sibyl had offered. "Regardless, he had the plans laid out nicely." Adam paused, slowly reaching down at his boot where he kept a small catalyst. "I've become something of a sorcerer as well. Tell me, how am I?" He held the catalyst up, casting a small Soul Arrow and directing it at the wound which had _just_ finished being cleaned and wrapped. It caught Sibyl off guard, and he screamed.

The redhead smiled, putting the catalyst of his own making back tucked into his boot. "I've got to go and make preparations. I will see you again, in time."

"Where is Blake?" Sibyl questioned, and Adam smiled softly, moving closer to the chained boy. "She's around. I wouldn't dare separate a Keeper from her Flame, after all."

"Keeper? You're... you're trying to recreate them!?" Sibyl finally _lost_ it, struggling and rattling his chains even _after_ Adam slugged him in his _good_ eye, the Chosen Undead flinching back before flailing again. Adam ignored his many threats, instead admiring and imagining that, next time he saw the undead, that bruise on his eye would be black and swollen. That was the thing about Aura; it only stopped and healed bruisers if the user _had_ any at the moment of occurrence.

Turning to his lieutenant, he spoke. "Give him the full treatment. I think he'd look better with more missing skin, don't you? And maybe he doesn't need his other eye, either."

Adam left, smiling softly as Sibyl cursed him to the depths of Izalith itself.

* * *

Weiss was trying to keep composed as they all sat in the dorm. It was a dorm she usually enjoyed being in, but given that it was lacking a very special boy who usually sat on the floor with books surrounding him, the comfort she typically felt was gone. It felt wrong to even say her _team_ was here, because her team wasn't. Blake certainly wasn't here, and Sibyl... Sibyl may as well have been a part of their team. No, instead of Blake and Sibyl, they had Sun. Penny had been forced to leave, doing so begrudgingly. It was kind she'd wanted to help, but truth be told, Weiss didn't _want_ anyone else here outside of those who knew Sibyl closely.

Sun... well, Sibyl had laid his life out for the Faunus, so she had backed down on trying to kick him out of the group. And, besides, he seemed to be feeling just as guilty as she felt. Pyrrha had also joined them, as the champion had come across a _very_ distraught Ruby who failed to keep her mouth shut on the details. The rest of her team wasn't involved, per request, but she was here. Yet, as Pyrrha sat on one of the beds, a determined, _angry_ look on her face, Weiss decided she was glad the Mistral Champion _could_ be here.

Speaking of the kind redhead, Weiss couldn't help but wonder if Blake and Sibyl would be missing if Pyrrha and Weiss switched teams? The two certainly wouldn't have gotten in a fight over the White Fang, thus Sibyl would have never been recruited to help Blake, and then they would have never been captured, and everything would be fine! But, no, she had... she had driven Blake off, and now, she was forced to deal with the consequences.

Hopefully, it 'wouldn't be two corpses.

Glynda pinched the bridge of her nose in thought and frustration, doing the absolute bestshe could to come up with some sort of solution to track Sibyl down. In the end, it seemed she had nothing to go off of, either. It was a few hours after the incident, as it took a bit of time to get back to Beacon. "It's... difficult. The White Fang undoubtedly has bases _everywhere,_ and seeing as how they were taken away in a Dropship, they could be anywhere."

Weiss sighed softly, clutching the hem of her skirt.

Sun had a different reaction. "Of course it's difficult, but there's _gotta'_ be a way to track him down! Isn't Beacon supposed to be the biggest and baddest academy around? You guys have to have _something-"_ Glynda cut the Faunus off with a sharp glare, and Sun swallowed a lump in his throat, slumping.

"You'd do well to remember we're _all_ frustrated with their disappearance," Glynda informed, voice chipped, but still kind, "Stop shouldering the blame for those two getting captured, because it is _not_ your fault. Am I understood?"

He nodded after a moment of hesitation, laying back on the bed he sat upon. The silence of the room was deafening, and the members of the group exchanged a few dismayed glances. Weiss gave Yang one, who was standing by the window with her arms crossed. She was taking this the worst of everyone...

And why wouldn't she? Blake was Yang's partner; they were supposed to be paired together for _four years,_ just like they were all supposed to be a team. And for Sibyl, Yang had met him before anyone else. She guided him to Beacon, and he had begun with teaching her before anyone else. Of _course_ she was taking things worse than all of them!

"Sun, you said Sibyl said he would take care of himself and Blake, right?" Pyrrha questioned, and Weiss resisted the urge to say how much of it was _lies_. Instead, she nodded for the foreign student. She'd been there when he said it, after all. "Well, is it possible he had some sort of signal ready? He could have something planned." It was a nice thought, but unlikely at best. It wasn't just the Schnee heiress being negative, either.

Ruby also shook her head at the suggestion, humming lightly. "I doubt it. Sibyl's smart, but he's really... confident, too. He probably didn't think _losing_ was an option." Ruby paused, lips thinning into a line. "Nobody did." Weiss's partner sighed, and the heiress felt her frustrations reach the breaking point.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, staring at the ground. "This is all my fault. If I'd just _listened,_ if I wouldn't have scared Blake off, then maybe they'd both still be here, and not in the Fang's clutches and probably dea-" Something slapped against her face, and Weiss blinked. Yang had finally removed herself from the window, and she was breathing heavily. Her eyes were burning, too, though whether it was tears or her Semblance, Weiss could hardly tell.

"Don't say it. There's no way Fireball and Blake are dead." The blond shook her head, clenching a fist in frustration. "I don't know how to explain it, but I can _feel_ Sibyl. He's alive, and if he's alive, then Blake's alive. He'd never let anything happen to her," Yang muttered, closing her eyes to fight away tears.

Weiss sighed, wiping at her own eyes. "Y-You're right. They're... we've got to believe they're still out there."

Yang cursed aloud, slamming her fist against one of the walls and creating a massive hole. "You don't get it! I can _feel_ Sibyl! There is no 'believe he's alive'.Sibyl's alive. I just don't know where the hell he is, but I can feel him!" The blond sighed softly, her hair slowly lost its glowing flare. "I can feel him," she whispered, removing her fist from the wall slowly.

Weiss stayed quiet, deciding that she'd done enough through all of this. No matter what they said, it was her fault. It was _all her fault._

"You can feel him?" Glynda asked slowly.

The blond brawler nodded, moving over to Sibyl's desk and sitting down. If only there was some sort of sorcery to track others down. Well, it there was, Sibyl had never mentioned it. Maybe there was a pyromancy or miracle which functioned the... Weiss felt her eyes slowly widen as she thought more about pyromancy. She didn't know _much_ about it, but she'd heard a good bit from Sibyl, mostly in the difference _between_ pyromancy and sorcery. If there was one thing he'd reiterated, it was sorcery was far less personal than the mesmerizing Flames. Both in how they functioned and how they were taught. It _had_ to be the key.

"It's pyromancy," she whispered, rising to her feet. "It's your pyromancy, Yang. Sibyl always said you two were connected, something about how the fire's more personal!"

Yang blinked a few times, whispering to herself so quietly Weiss only barely caught what she said. "A piece of his soul..." Suddenly, their team's violent vixen stood up, a confident grin on her face where previously it had been dismayed and depressed. "You're right. Fireball gave me a piece of his own fire. That's how we're connected, even if it's more me than him. That's why I can feel him, and _that's_ how we're going to find him."

Holding out a hand with the palm opened upwards, a Flame formed in her hand. It wasn't as impressive as Sibyl's own, but the blond had come a decent way on her own. She would sometimes get irritated her training was taking longer to pick things up, but their one-eyed teacher had once told them leaning pyromancy was like a Flame growing; the further along it got, the faster it would grow. Soon, Weiss had no doubt Yang would be slinging fireballs left and right, just as Weiss could now cast Homing Soulmass and Soul Arrows without difficulties.

Unlike sorceries, however, Yang's ability to conjure a Flame seemed so much more important at the moment.

Yang closed her eyes, breathing softly. Slowly, the fire in her palm began to _flicker,_ wavering as if wind was blowing it before eventually pointing in one direction and staying there. The group shared a look, and Weiss dared to let hope blossom in her chest.

"I'll get a Dropship ready right away," Glynda declared, already walking out of the dorm.

* * *

 _\- Thump._

Sibyl, for the past... well, however long since this had begun, had been focusing _only_ on the sound of his heartbeat. It was hard when he would occasionally choke or spasm in place, the pain of two fingers digging into a wound agonizing. It had also been hard to focus on the soft thumping when water had been poured over his head, and he had felt his eyes and throat burn as the sensation of drowning overtook him. It was one he was _very_ familiar with, and his personal least favorite way to die. It was hard to focus on his heartbeat, but that was what he did. It was what he _had_ to do.

 _\- Thump._

It was the best way to ignore that every time he struggled against his bindings, his elbow burned in pain. It was the best way to ignore the pain which spiked in his thigh when his captor would suddenly slam his boot against the undead's thigh; one time, he had aimed slightly lower, nearly breaking the undead's kneecap. Sibyl had cried out in pain before he remembered what he ought to be doing: focusing on his heartbeat.

 _\- Thump._

It helped, not only with numbing the pain, but with something else. For Sibyl had a plan, but the plan required patience. It also required him to _focus,_ and focus intently on his memories. The only good news was they were recent ones; the bad news is it required him to acknowledge that, on some level, the dark magic he had encountered in Oolacile had sparked enough interest for him to not immediately dismiss the spells he had come across. That fact scared him.

 _\- Thu_

Sibyl screamed as one of his fingers were snapped back, the White Fang lieutenant laughing as he simultaneously ran a burning knife down his side, the blade turned so as to not cut, but to get as much of the hot iron against him. He stopped the scream by biting into his lip, breathing heavy and focusing on the only thing which mattered: his heartbeat.

 _\- Thump._

Dark Bead was a spell whichhe could recall ended his life while venturing through Oolacile. It was a dark variant of Homing Soulmass, except instead of the balls forming and separating from each other and hovering until the user decided a target, they were _expelled_ immediately and outwards with no small amount of power. It was central to his plan. For him to escape, he was going to have to use that which never should be used: the Abyss.

 _\- Thump._

It began with his tainted eye. He could _feel_ the Abyss, moving and begging to be used. He had a theory the infection upon his eye could even function as a catalyst, and he was counting on that theory heavily. Because if it _couldn't_ be used, Sibyl suspected he would be used in whatever awful ritual Adam had planned to create a third Flame. It wasn't so much he cared it would kill him – though he did, more on the principle no one got to make decisions _for him._ What he was truly concerned on was what would happen to those around him, and the most immediate concern on that front was Blake. That was why he needed to escape his bindings.

 _\- Thump._

"I don't like you," his torturer declared, voice far too close to Sibyl's ear. "It's why I'm enjoying this. I don't get to play with kids often, usually just former Fang members who have turned traitor." The voice paused, and Sibyl continued to focus.

 _\- Thump._

"They're Faunus, so even if I have to do it, I don't enjoy it." The agent stood directly in front of Sibyl, pushing his chin up so to stare into his eye. "But you, oh, man, I'm having the time of my lif-"

 _\- Thump._

The White Fang lieutenant didn't get the chance to finish speaking, because his brains were now splattered against the far wall. Sibyl looked down and stared at his busted cranium for a few seconds, ignoring the bits of blood and brain which had been flung forward at his own face. The standing corpse in front of him did not fall slowly; no, the force of the Dark Beads had blasted him back.

There had been another 'thump', but it hadn't been his heartbeat; it was the sound of a body hitting the floor. He kept staring at the now dead lieutenant, _enjoying_ the sight he saw. He might have compared it to a cracked egg, but to be honest, he hardly could afford to focus on the corpse in front of him for a few moments. Instead, he turned his eyes – and it was _eyes_ , because Sibyl was disturbed to see that he could _see_ out of his Abyss-tainted one to the chains holding him up. He didn't dare cast Dark Bead, lest he remove his own arm, but Dark Orb would work.

Focusing intently, Sibyl allowed his tainted eye to work as a catalyst once more. An Abyssal sphere flew forward, slamming into the chain and breaking it. The locket around his wrist remained, but Sibyl didn't care. Falling forward due to the lack of support, Sibyl was forced to pull himself up closer to the other chain, focusing his eye and casting another Dark Orb.

He fell forward, collapsing onto the ground – and in fact right on top the corpse he'd created. Grimacing and trying to ignore the way his whole body and leg _burned,_ Sibyl sat up, breaking the chains connected to his legs in the same way he'd done to the ones locking his hands in place.

Finally free, Sibyl allowed himself to fall back to the ground for just a second. One hand slowly raised up to touch the Abyss around his eye, and he grimaced. It felt far more... _alive,_ because he had been forced to draw upon a power he swore to never use. Was that how every fall began? Had Artorias tapped into the power willingly, or simply been corrupted from his battle? It didn't matter.

Sibyl tried to stand, but his damaged thigh made it impossible, not to mention his aching knee.

Looking around, he smiled lightly at seeing the odd, metal blade which was resting on a table nearby. It was quite long. Crawling across the room – leaving a small blood trail – he used the table as support, grabbing the metal weapon and forcing it beneath the armpit which his useless arm was connected to. With a crutch, he managed to move over to the door which had been shut closed.

It seemed he'd be breaking out of this place with one, sole good hand.

He took a deep breath and opened the door _with_ his one good hand.

"Finally done in there, eh? Guess the damn human passed-"

Before the White Fang grunt had anytime to respond, Sibyl had slammed his free hand into his face and summoned the most powerful Combustion he had ever conjured. The Faunus's face was unrecognizable, and he fell back, dead. Sibyl held his palm there in the air for a moment after the body fell, shaking his head.

It was time to find Blake.

* * *

Blake didn't know how long she'd been sitting there, knees tucked and just... _staring_ at the door. She had finally stopped crying a bit ago, remembering tears didn't do anything. They never had, and they never would. Tears weren't going to change the fact she was here, trapped in a room without her weapons and her Aura drained. Tears didn't change the fact that, even if her friends were looking for her, the odds they could find a White Fang facility was damn near zero. Muffled cries didn't change the fact she was completely _exhausted,_ enough so she doubted she could even take on more than a few Fang grunts. Why was she even sitting there, staring at the door? It wasn't like anyone was going to save her. She wasn't some princess in a tower; she was a _terrorist_ whose past had finally caught up to her.

Her only realregret was getting Sibyl involved. He didn't deserve whatever was likely happening to him. Humans captured by the Fang were never treated kindly; most never lasted _long_ , either, but Adam had made it sound as if Sibyl was important. Given Sibyl was teaching Weiss and Yang such odd arts, she didn't put it past Adam to force him to teach the White Fang. It would certainly have tipped things in the Fang's favor. Maybe it would be enough to keep him alive? Maybe, if Sibyl was alive, she could do something to free him and they could escape. But he _had_ to be alive. Without him, she knew she'd never get out.

Blinking, the Huntress-in-training focused in on the doorknob which was slowly turning. She dared to hope, if only for a second, _someone_ she knew was going to walk through that door. But it wasn't to be; instead, a few White Fang members entered, all men and all armed. Blake slowly stood, narrowing her eyes. "What do you want?" She hissed, ignoring the way her heart started to race and her pupils dilated.

"Just wanted to get a good look at one of the Fang's most notorious traitors. Adam never shuts up about you," the group's... leader, for lack of a better term, answered. He had antlers protruding from his head.

Blake frowned, crossing her arms uncomfortably. "Well, here I am. You can leave now."

One of them laughed as another stepped forward to speak. "He said we wanted a _good_ look. Not just a look, you know?"

Blake raised an eyebrow, before _just_ what they were applying hit her. She felt her breath hitch, and she tried to take a step back, yet there was a wall _directly_ behind her. "N-No. I'll _kill you,"_ she declared, meaning it for the first time in her life. And... maybe she could do it. Sure, her Aura was drained, but she was still a Huntress-in-training and these were some grunts. She wasn't experienced in fighting without her weapon _at all,_ unfortunately, but she _could_ still do it. She had to, otherwise... no, that wasn't a possibility.

She was going to have to try.

"Hey, listen. We're just trying to give you a bit of pleasure before you end up like all those freaks in the basement," the deer Faunus reiterated, holding up two hands as if that would help her trust them.

Another Fang member chuckled, rubbing at his chin. "Yeah, Adam is really convinced you're gonna' turn out different. We've got our doubts, so... may as well put you to good use."

Blake could _hear_ her heart beating faster and louder, and odds were those across from her could hear it, too. Given one of them smirked lightly, she _knew_ they could. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she used the brief lull to plan the best way to take them out quickly and _get away_. "For the record, I'm not participating in this like the rest of these sick fucks," mentioned the Faunus in the back with two wolf ears atop his head, which he moved to scratch. "I'm just here to make sure they don't get too... violent, I guess. Sorry, Kid. I really do mean it."

"If you were sorry, you'd stop them," she whispered, knowing they'd all hear it regardless.

"...I've tried before, but, you know, the guys-"

Before he could finish speaking, another member had stepped forward and shoved the wolf Faunus to the ground. "Shut the hell up. You're ruining the mood."

Blake took the brief moment he had turned his head to pounce, flying forward and slamming a fist against his head. Normally, it would have left him unconscious, but she didn't have her Aura to strengthen her, did she? He was sent stumbling back, and she quickly moved to kick at the deer Faunus. He leaned back, moving forward to try and grab her, only to receive another kick in the face for his efforts. Blake shifted to avoid a punch to the back of her head, grabbing the arm and breaking it in one fluid motion. As she threw him over her shoulder, she turned and ducked beneath a punch. Lunging forward, she slammed her leg into his groin, sliding between his legs and making a beeline towards the door.

As she grabbed the handle, something slammed against her back and against the door, _hard._ She fell back a moment there later, back on the ground with black spots in her vision.

Gasping, Blake tried to reorient herself. Without her Aura to lighten the blow, she could hardly even _think._ Slowly, the cracked mask of a White Fang member came into her vision, and she whimpered. A boot slammed into her stomach and she coughed, a bit of blood coming out with it.

"Think you're real smart, don't you?" He growled, leaning down and getting _right_ in her face. "You just made the biggest mistake of your life, girlie."

* * *

Sibyl slowly maneuvered forward, the metal blade he was using as a crutch making both a lot of noise _and_ his trip easier. His arm still hung limp beside it, and he had even accidentally cut his arm on the sharp end of the blade. It hardly bothered him, given all the _other_ pain he was in at the moment, but it was something he noted. He struggled to keep his eyes open the longer he walked on but forced his way through his own exhaustion. He had to find Blake and get out of this place, lest Adam return and their escape became impossible.

His eyes slowly moved to his palm, and more specifically, his index finger which had been bent backwards. A bit of bone stuck out from the skin, and he grimaced. The moment he stared at it, he could feel the pain reestablish itself. Gritting his teeth, he paused, resting his back against a nearby wall and taking in gasps of air. He wasn't even sure where he was _,_ only that it was some sort of prisoner facility and didn't have many, if any, windows.

The undead didn't find much in the way of guards, either. In fact, Sibyl strained his ears to listen for a few moments. The halls were completely quiet, except for _one_ thing he could hear far in the distance. It was hard to make out, but, after stopping his own, panted breathes, he realized it was a scream.

No, not a scream, _screams._ Repeated screams, and they were feminine, at that.

Sibyl felt his eye flare up, and a dark, _dark_ energy overtook his body. It helped numb his pain, mostly because he got _angry._ And anger was a great way to ignore even the most serious of injuries. Still, he didn't sprint; it was outright impossible. Instead, he used the crutch under his arm at a much faster pace, using his free hand to guide him along the walls. Ignoring the searing pain was hard, but he went back to a tried and true method. Only, this time, instead of listening to his heartbeat, he listened for the screams.

With each noise, he could feel his senses grow duller. His thoughts began to get simpler, too, though eventually, he didn't even notice that.

' _I'll kill them. I'll bite out their damn throats. I will slaughter them-'_

He knew what was happening. He _knew_ who was screaming. And Sibyl realized something: he was going to make whoever was causing it miserable. Eventually, the screams got so loud – or closer – that he could make out words. Not even words – they were pained begs. The weapon-turned-crutch beneath his arm fell to the ground, but he didn't even hear the metal rattle. He didn't _feel_ the way his leg cried in protest with every step, and he certainly didn't notice the light, purplish black energy which had overtaken his body. And so, his left eye flared as he slammed open a door.

The sight was what he expected. Three men crowded over _someone._ He roared, the noise so loud he thought it was coming from a damn giant and not his own mouth. With little to no warning except his own deafening scream, he leapt forward and conjured a fireball as the men looked over their shoulders in fear. He slammed his Chaos Fireball against the back of one of the Fang grunts, the man screaming as the fire burnt through his clothes, flesh, and eventually, his very body. The Flame didn't remove itself quickly, either; the lava stayed far longer than it normally did, even as the Faunus underneath it continued to scream.

An indictment to Sibyl's own rage if there ever was one.

Sibyl, not wasting a moment, turned to his next foe. He allowed a stream of Fire Surge to fly from his palm, burning the Faunus bastard's antlers and face into a charred, mixed mess of tan and white. As the bastard screamed, he turned for the last member. He felt something slam against his thigh, and he screamed, not in pain but in rage. Turning his Abyssal eye towards the one who had done it, he didn't even have to commandthe Abyss to cast. It simply _did_ , a Dark Orb flying out and connecting with the fool's chest. It went straight through, slamming against one of the far walls and leaving a gaping hole Sibyl could see through inside his foe.

Something was dropped onto the ground, and the Chosen Undead turned to see that it was a gun. _Someone_ had dropped their gunon the ground. A Fang member, at that. The only one left alive. Sibyl slowly stood, the pain in his bad leg forgotten as he _dragged_ himself forward. His breathing was heavy, and the wolf eared Faunus was already begging.

"Please, no! I've got a family, man. Ask the girl – I was here to make sure they didn't get too-" Sibyl grabbed him by the throat, pinning him against the wall and _squeezing._ His legs kicked as he struggled to get free and tried to speak. It was disgusting. With the strength of what it took him to lift _Grant,_ Sibyl squeezed, the man's neck cracking before it narrowed into something resembling a thin stick. Sibyl finally allowed the body to drop and his own breathing to steady – the moment it did, he realized in just how much _pain_ his leg was in.

He fell onto his back with a scream, and it only took a moment before someone was standing over him. His first instinct was to throw a punch, but it was stopped just short of Blake's tear-filled, messy and bruised face. She was crying, but she was also doing her best to focus on making sure he was fine. His eyes drifted below briefly, and he growled like an animal at seeing she was topless. "I-I'll ki-kill them all," he whispered before closing his eyes and raising his free hand to his mouth, screaming as he bit down onto it and drew blood.

* * *

Blake was crying about a few things as she collapsed into Sibyl, pulling him close against her as he bit his hand to stop a scream. Firstly, she was crying about what had _almost_ happened. She could only barely believe if, and she could hardly even _think_ about herself without getting angry. If she had just been better, if she had just managed to beat a few White Fang grunts, she would have never been put into a position like that. Sibyl would never have been put into a position to act so... brutally, even with his clear injuries.

How had she even gotten admittance to Beacon if she couldn't handle a few untrained men!? She should be kicked out, because it was beyond _sad._ With her... with her _virginity_ and dignity on the line, she had failed to protect it herself. No, someone else had, she was crying about the _who_ had come in and saved her. Maybe fairy tales did exist, because Sibyl... Sibyl was a goddamned hero. She finally realized _just_ what everyone else saw in him.

He had been ready to tear out a throat with his own damn teeth if it meant saving her, and for Blake... it meant the world. No one had ever acted like that _for her,_ a sort of primal rage at just the sight of her being violated. No, it had come even before he saw them; he had entered the room already beyond enraged. It was somewhat sad that the first someone to act so protectively of her was a person she'd barely talked to over the past few months, yet it also warmed her heart he had fought through tremendous pain just to protect her.

Thirdly, she was crying because _what the hell had they done to him?!_ One of his fingers was bent so far backwards _bone_ was visible, and his other arm was hanging limply. The wrapping around his thigh had come loose, so she got to see there were a surplus of stab wound digging at least halfway through his leg. They weren't clean cuts, either. They were jagged, with bits of flesh torn off and still hanging loosely. He was missing a slab of flesh on his back shoulder, and it wasn't pretty. She swallowed down a bit of bile in her throat, shaking her head and trying to focus.

Then, there was his body. God, Yang hadn't been kidding – he had so many cuts and wounds, and now, as she stared at his bare body, she could see all the new ones made. She saw the marks of hot iron running all across his chest and side, not to mention multiple physical bruises. His oneeye was bloodshot and bruised, while the _other_... Blake wasn't even sure how to describe it.

It was _dark._ A sort of blackness resembling the Grimm, but so differently. She could see it _move_ if she stared hard enough. He had also cast some sort of... dark orb out of it to kill one of her... her...

Blake shuddered, collapsing back from her knees against Sibyl's chest and crying. "T-Thank you," she whispered, choking on her own voice. She didn't say anything more, mostly because she _couldn't._ What more was there to say except 'thank you' _?_ Thank you for saving her, thank you for _helping_ her in the first place, and a thank you for _living_ and not leaving her alone in such an awful, awful place.

"L-Late…" Sibyl said, coughing wildly right thereafter.

Blake slowly raised her head, blinking. Late? What did he mean-

Oh. Blake felt more tears fall as she shook her head slowly. "No. You... you stopped them before any of _that."_

He opened his eyes, staring into her own. She tried not to squirm at the darkness _moved_ with the motion. Slowly, he smiled, laying his head back down. His smile faded. "Go," he whispered, resting his head against the floor and closing his eyes.

Blake cursed aloud at that suggestion, slapping him gingerly across the face. "No. We're getting out of this, _together._ You're not going to sit here and die! We're going to live; we're going to see Yang and Weiss and _everybody_ else again."

She forced him up to his feet, and he did help... some. Mostly, he was dead weight, limp. She didn't blame him for it, given everything she just saw him do when his kneecap was busted, and his thigh was simply shredded meat.

"We've got to go to the basement," she thought aloud, electing a grunt of exertion from Sibyl. "They said they kept people down there. We've got to save them," she whispered, setting Sibyl up against the wall briefly so she could fix her own top. She stared at herself for a moment, narrowing her eyes and snarling. She was a failure. She should have done something – anything! Instead, Sibyl had been forced to, and look at him! He managed to do something to escape in _his_ state, but she couldn't even beat a few guards!

Blake fought away her own tears, swallowing and moving back to Sibyl. She moved to get beneath his _good_ arm, but he shook his head. "I… I need to have my pyromancy," he said through heavy breath. Nodding, the cat Faunus hooked his _broken_ arm around her shoulder and neck, trying to ignore the strained look of pain which took over Sibyl's face.

The pair exited through the door, leaving behind a room full of blood, corpses, and bad memories.

* * *

"We're getting close," Blake whispered into his ear, and Sibyl nodded. His head was ringing, so the motion caused some mild distress, but compared to the rest of the pain he was feeling _everywhere,_ it was nothing. She'd been using her superior hearing to track the sound of footsteps, and while they were doing that, she'd heard moans of torment. Sibyl was still hooked around her neck, but his breathing had calmed somewhat. Perhaps it was due to him getting used to the pain; perhaps, most worryingly, it was the blood loss, numbing his senses.

They'd also, after wandering a bit, managed to find their equipment. Sibyl had elected to leave behind his armor, seeing as how he had a spare set in his bottomless box and enough titanite to reinforce it into something respectable. What he had _refused_ to leave were Solaire's talisman, Solaire's longsword, and his Oolacile Cataylst.

Blake had her weapon, but she was still rather exhausted. With her Aura drained, Sibyl wouldn't be allowing her to fight. He would use his pyromancy to take out any threats, quickly and painfully. If need be... he'd also allow the Abyss to force his senses into a more primal state, so he might ignore the pain of his body. Only if it was absolutely necessary, however, would he resort to that again. As they – and by 'they', it meant _he_ – limped further and closer to the noises, hebegan to be able to hear them just as Blake was able to. Quiet sobs, yet unnaturally sounding, too.

He grimaced. He had only heard the sound once before, at the base of the Duke Archives.

"Hey, who the hell are you-" Sibyl didn't hesitate to turn around, force Blake off of him, and conjure Fire Whip. It burned his foe alive, of course, but not before he discharged his gun. The undead cursed when multiple bullets slammed into his shoulder; his Aura was too drained to prevent damage, too.

"Are you okay?" Blake asked, and he nodded. They were but a few more wounds to add to his collection. "They'll have heard that," she declared a moment later, muttering under her breath. "We need to hurry."

Sibyl nodded, agreeing entirely. The quicker they left this place, the better. Blake more or less carried him forward, and as they reached the door which led to the basement, she kicked it open, rushing down the stairs with the last of her energy. It was dark, but that wasn't an issue for Blake. She could see in the dark.

"W-What are those?" Blake questioned, taking a step back as she scanned the room. He couldn't exactly tell, given he was a human and not Faunus, but he had a solution. Reaching at his side, he grabbed the Oolacile Catalyst and conjured a ball of light at the center of the room. It was by then that he could see what Blake was talking about. They were odd people, with a body almost similar to a standing snail, yet with octopus-like tendrils coming from their heads. Tendrils came out the back of their heads, and they were all huddled together, _crying._ Sibyl forced himself to stand all by himself, ignoring Blake's darting eyes. He knew what these creatures were, or at least had been.

"Halp," came a disgruntled cry from nearby.

The undead could only sigh softly, cursing all the gods he knew of in his mind as he slowly turned to stare at the ground near him. The sight of a girl laying there, her body… transformed into something far different greeted him. He approached slowly, limping even as Blake asked what the hell was going on. His attention was far more focused.

Falling onto his good knee and tuning out the pain in his other, he leaned forward. The girl's one _real_ eye – as the other had turned into some sort of pink liquid – shined with hope at the sight of him. "You're fine. We are going to help you," he declared, reaching forward and pulling the girl into a hug. And it was true: they were going to help her. Sibyl was going to help all of them.

She cried, the noise anything but natural coming from her mouth. " _Hai as ss-ared."_

Nodding in understanding, he moved his good hand to grab the sword at his waist. "You're fine. You will be fine."

As she sobbed in joy, Sibyl didn't close his eyes. No, he kept them staring at her one good, hazel-colored eye, even as he rammed a straight sword through her chest and heart. She died instantly, and Sibyl watched as realization dawned in that beautiful eye. It quickly faded to, not anger, but gratefulness, followed by fading to nothing and glassing over. He stared for a few seconds longer before gently laying her down, ignoring the burning in his leg because it was _nothing_ compared to what these women had gone through.

He took a deep breath, dropping her from his arm and standing up with a shaky breath.

"Why did you kill her?!" Blake hissed, grabbing him by the shoulder and roughly turning him around. She only kept her voice quiet to avoid the rest of the failed Fire Keepers from realizing what was going on, he suspected. It was a wise decision.

"What would you have me do, Blake?" He wondered aloud and didn't receive an immediate answer. "She was suffering; they're all suffering!"

The Faunus shook her head, refusing to believe what he had done was right. It... hurt, that she thought him some sort of brute. He had only ever tried to do what was right, even if he failed sometimes. A lot of the time, actually.

"There had to be a way. If they can get changed into that, they can get changed back-"

Sibyl laughed bitterly, shaking his head as tears came. "There is no _cure,_ Blake! These are the creations of a madman, all made possible thanks to _my damnable teacher!"_ He cried, slamming his fist against his own thigh as punishment. It hurt, but he deserved it. Why had he allowed Logan to read those books, to continue to read them!? He knew his teacher was acting strange, yet he ignored the signs. And, thanks to him... this happened.

"I am fixing the mess Logan and I made. These… poor women, poor maidens, they were promised salvation, that they'd become Fire Keepers."

"…those are Fire Keepers?" Blake whispered, taking a step back. "Adam wants me to become… _that?"_

"No. He wants you to become a true Fire Keeper, but this is what happens when one attempts to _create_ a Keeper: disaster. A disaster I now must fix."

Silence overtook the two as they stared at the group of former maidens. Of sisters, of mothers and of children. Of _people,_ most of all, all turned into something far less thanks to him not burning down the entirety of the Duke Archives as soon as he discovered what it _really_ was: a palace not of knowledge, but of madness.

"It isn't right," Blake mumbled, crossing her arms to hug herself. Understandably shaken by the knowledge Adam would inadvertently turn her into _this_ ,Sibyl nonetheless decided it was something she would have to deal with on her own and later.

"Nothing ever is. Blake, go upstairs. I... I will make this quick."

She did so begrudgingly. He waited until he heard the door open and close before allowing himself a moment to stare at the group of huddled women. And they werewomen, _people_. They simply didn't _appear_ to be such things.

"I never asked for this," Sibyl whispered, staring at his hand as a fire formed. Slowly, one by one, they turned up to look at him and his fire. He did his best to stay composed. "I never asked for this," he said, slightly louder at the accusing stares. He had once thought them mindless – but those stares, they pierced his very soul. "I never asked for this!" He screamed, the Flame in his hand growing rapidly.

He'd never wanted to be chosen, but what else had he been expected to do? He woke up in an asylum with no memories, and promised the man who saved his life he would, if nothing else, _try_ and fulfill a prophecy.

"I was content to die, to burn in the Kiln!"

It was supposed to be his destiny! His salvation and his punishment, for all he had done. For killing a demon-sister who was protecting her sick sister, for driving Siegemeyer to his own death! For... for sending Laurentius down to the swamps of Blight Town, _killing_ his dear friend and teacher.

Then, he had ended up in Oolacile, before coming _here._

"I never asked for any of this – not to be chosen, not to kill all my friends, and certainly not… _this_ ,"he explained, gesturing to the blue, tentacle-headed maidens who judged him so harshly.

He swallowed a lump in his throat as the former ladies turned their gazes back to the ground. He shook his head, preparing the cast of Chaos Storm.

"I never asked for this."


	10. Painted in Black and Red

_**Chapter 10 is here, and I want to preface this by saying I would have preferred this chapter and the previous one to be combined into one whole chapter. That said, it would have come out to be damn near 20,000 words for a single chapter, and I'm not comfortable with that length for a single chapter. So, I don't think this chapter hits the same highs-and-lows as well as the previous one, mostly because they're supposed to be apart of the same chapter.**_

 _ **I also had to overcome a serious case of writer's block to finish it. Because of that, I'm not entirely happy with how it turned out, but I rewrote the whole damn thing and was still unhappy, so it is what it is. I'll just have to hope that I'm overthinking, and that it is still up to standards. Thanks to my beta,**_ _ **ekaterina016, for continuing to read and help me out.**_

 _ **Also, I want everyone to know that I read every review I get, and I appreciate every single one of them. I've thankfully yet to get anyone flaming, and instead have gotten a large amount of constructive criticism from a few reviewers in particular. I've addressed a few of you personally in PM's, mostly because I don't want to clutter my author's note until it takes up damn near 1000 words. So again: thank you, for everyone who comments or just reads. I appreciate 'ya.**_

* * *

Fire Keepers.

Alone, the words didn't mean much, but combined, they had always driven Blake mad. Not because she knew what they were, but because she had _no idea_ on what they were. She'd wondered about them for a long time, even coming up with a few of her own explanations on them and what they were, and why Adam was so seemingly obsessed with them. Even when he started calling her a Keeper opposed to her real name, she'd had no idea what it meant.

Even still, she had very little idea on what exactly they were. She just knew what it looked like to be a target of Adam's obsession, for him to try and _transform_ one into a Fire Keeper. And, in the moment where Sibyl had explained what those odd, blue tentacle-headed _things_ downstairs were,everything she had experienced felt weak in comparison.

She could imagine herself being that girl on the ground, transformed and abandoned by even Adam, unable to speak properly because she had been changed so fundamentally it was impossible to even recognize her. What if that had been her, and Sibyl shoved a sword through her chest? Would she have been grateful? Angry? Resentful? Or a combination of all three?

What of the fully transformed ones? Did they feel at all, or were they mindless? They had all been huddled together and making some sort of sound which resembled crying. Was it instinct, or _were_ they conscious? Was the girl on the ground slowly going to transform into one, or would she remain in a half-human, half… _that_ state?

Blake didn't know, and she didn't want to know. Thanks to Sibyl, she might never have to.

It was why she didn't say anything when he came up through the door from the basement, limping heavily and using the handrail to guide him up the stairs. It was why she didn't mention that she had heard everything he said, thanks to her Faunus hearing. She didn't even _think_ about what he had said for more than a few moments, because it was clearly supposed to be private, and she was grateful.

…or, well, she tried not to think about it. A hard thing to do, given everything he had said was so concerning.

He had killed his friends? She didn't think it was necessarily in the context she heard it in, but he clearly _felt_ guilty. And then, there was something about him… burning somewhere? She didn't know what to think, and so she did her best to not jump to any conclusions.

"It is done," Sibyl muttered, shutting the door behind him and forgetting the flames, smoke, and corpses left below. They stood there, and Blake didn't say anything for a few moments. The silence quickly became too oppressive for her to handle.

"Are you okay?" She voiced hesitantly, trying to meet his gaze but he kept on staring at the ground.

"I haven't been okay in a very long time, Blake."

She reached forward to grab his hand, to try and comfort him just as he had her, but he brushed her aside, using the hand she'd sought to hold to support himself against the wall. He began to walk, stopping to look over his shoulder when he realized she wasn't following. "It is time to leave this place."

Yes. Yes, it was.

Moving beside him, she hooked his broken arm around her neck. He nodded in thanks but didn't _say_ anything. They continued to walk – who knew for how long, really. She used the time to think about what she was going to do when they got out of here, because they _were_ going to get out here.

Sibyl was alive, even if in awful shape. Somehow, he was powering through his pain. He had mentioned the Abyss earlier, and while she had no idea what it was, she suspectedit had something to do with his eye.

When they got out of here and back to Beacon, she was going to apologize to Weiss… and to Yang, because her partner was probably beyond worried. And then, she was going to apologize to Sun and Sibyl, for dragging the both of them into this mess. Maybe then she'd _leave_ Beacon. Could she do it? She was putting everyone in danger just by being there; that much was obvious. Maybe, after her team saw what they'd done to Sibyl, they'd want her to leave?

Sibyl needed an official team, too. They could just… switch. Sibyl didn't have to be by his lonesome anymore, and she'd be able to keep everyone safe by getting the hell away. They'd all been so kind; it was the least she could do.

Blake blinked, slowing to a stop as she heard something. Voices and footsteps, rapidly getting louder. "Someone's coming," she whispered to Sibyl.

The cursed boy muttered under his breath, unhooking himself from her and reaching for the catalyst at his side. "Stay close to me," he demanded, grabbing her and pulling her against his body tightly with his one good arm. She grimaced at the feeling of blood against her but didn't say anything as he closed his eyes and focused.

A moment later, he crouched, and Blake blinked. "We are under an illusion," he informed, scooting back and against the wall. "I have casted Chameleon, but we must be _very_ quiet and still, lest they discover us."

Blake racked her mind on just what Chameleon was, then remembered him showing it to Sun before the White Fang showed up at the docks. They must have looked like some sort of object, then. Sorcery really was incredible. Maybe she could get him to teacher her something before she left Beacon, so if she ever got… captured again, she'd have a surprise in store and a better way to defend herself.

She slowed her breathing as Sibyl returned his catalyst to his side, and instead grabbed the handle of his longsword by going across her body. His one finger was still bent backwards with a bone protruding, but his grip didn't slacken. He pulled her a bit closer, and she could feel his own breathing slow until it became almost inaudible. Doing her best to mirror him, she stilled, because the footsteps and voices had finally gotten loud enough for _Sibyl_ to hear, too.

Neither dared to speak, and as a group of a dozen or so White Fang got about halfway past them, she dared to think they might get out without any-

Sibyl threw her aside, breaking the illusion with a grunt and slashing at the neck of the nearest member; his blade got stuck about halfway in, and he pulled, splattering blood across himself and the wall, as well as her own face. He followed the motion with an upwards slice which cut the neck of one monkey Faunus, before thrusting forward with his blade into the center of the chest of another, female White Fang grunt.

Blake finally shook off her own shock when Sibyl turned around and tossed a fireball at the group behind them, their screams sounding so _very,_ very loud. Nevertheless, she herself rushed forward, throwing her body and blade at the back half of the Fang members with a series of slices and blunt hits. She didn't have the ruthlessness in her to kill them like Sibyl did; in fact, she wasn't even sure how to _feel_ about him killing them.

Kicking the gun out of one of her foe's hands before he had the chance to fire, she slammed the side of her blade against his chin, knocking him back before dashing forward and beneath the attempted butt of a rifle at her face. Kicking out at his feet, the White Fang member flipped forward before landing hard on the ground.

Sibyl, having finished his side of the group with a combination of steel and pyromancy, came in at her side and blocked a blow. He moved his face in close to the Fang member's face and headbutted him, sending the soldier stumbling before Sibyl thrusted his blade upwards and straight through his throat. A dozen White Fang members had fallen in a flash, most of which would never _get up_ again.

Gazing at the few members still alive with a beating chest, Blake did her best to not shake at the feeling of warm blood on her clothes and skin. She could only blink when Sibyl, covered in a dark, black and purple energy, walked forward and slammed his blade into the chest of each surviving soldier.

"W-Why would you do that?" She hissed, daring to stomp her foot in rage.

The cursed boy shook his head, removing his blade from the chest of one member and turning to stare at her with blank features. "They knew what was happening here. They're not innocent."

Blake laughed, the supposedly joyful sound coming out rasping and choked. "That doesn't give you the right to just _murder_ them!"

He paused, sheathing his blade and closing his eyes. "''Right'. I've heard a lot about _rights_ since coming to this place." He met her gaze, and she saw his dark eye begin to swirl. "What _right_ did these bastards have to do _nothing_ for those women-turned-abominations in the basement? What _right_ did they have to allow their own members to nearly violate _you!?"_ Sibyl screamed, his black eye flaring in rage.

The Huntress didn't have a very good answer, and so she said nothing.

"No one except _us_ is leaving this base alive, Blake. I am drawing upon the power of the Abyss to assure it; it dampens my pain, so I may enact vengeance for those unable to."

"So, you know it's not justice?"

"There is no such thing as 'justice'. I have seen murderers and thieves walk and live freely, while good men died horrific deaths." He paused, touching the blade at his side. "Vengeance and sin are real, however, and they go hand and hand."

She refused to believe that, but… if what she had seen in the basement was what Sibyl had to deal with out in the Badlands, then she couldn't blame him for thinking what he did. Things… things would be easier when they got out of here. Then… maybe then, Sibyl could explain some things.

He hooked his arm around her neck again, the furious energy around him dying down as they continued to walk. Still, Blake swore the darkness around his eye had _grown_ further, if only just.

"…if I ever seem to _lose_ myself, for lack of a better term," Sibyl began, still limping alongside her, "be very careful, and I might even suggest you flee for your life."

Blake raised an eyebrow, and while her running away from Sibyl and _leaving_ him in this place was an impossibility, she couldn't help but find her curiosity peaked.

"Lose yourself?" She wondered aloud, and he nodded.

"You'll know it when you see it, rest assured."

Biting her lip, Blake tried to silence her worries. In the end, she succeeded.

* * *

Adam was _very,_ very angry.

While he had been preparing a transport and everything they would need to take Sibyl and Blake somewhere far, _far_ more desolate for the creation of the Third Flame, it seemed his prisoners had _escaped._ Someone had finally checked the security feed to find the undead, not in chains, but limping with Blake through the halls of his very own research facility, hidden deep in a cave north of Vale. It was an old White Fang base, abandoned until he showed up.

Not only was Sibyl and Blake escaping his capture inexcusable, Sibyl's own escape meant Adam's most valued lieutenant had to be dead. _How_ the Chosen Undead managed to escape his secure-fastened chains, defeat his right-hand man _after_ being cruelly tortured, the bull Faunus had no idea, but he intended to find out… right after he personally removed both the undead's damn legs _and_ his good eye.

And Blake…. She hadn't taken his words to heart. She didn't stay put, and so his little Fire Keeper might find herself blind or becoming an amputee. For her being able to _move_ didn't mean she was able to empower him, after all. And, once he had defeated Sibyl, recaptured Blake, and created the Third Flame, he would finally grow powerful enough to overtake Sienna and rule as the supreme leader of the White Fang.

It was his destiny. Everyone else was too weak-willed to do what was _necessary._ Sacrifices had to be made for their liberation, and he would make them come to fruition. Once he was strong enough, he could even kill that damnable Cinder who _dared_ to force his cooperation. She had her uses, however, and he might even transform her into one of those abominations just to hear her _scream._ Before that, maybe his men could have a taste of her.

Afterwards, with a Flame created and himself empowered far greater than any other being in existence, he might finally be willing to teach others sorcery, and it would be their ultimate weapon against the humans.

Until such a time, however, he would wait. Because Sibyl was going to tear through his White Fang guards; he had no doubt of that. When they reached this hangar, which served as an exit and landing point for transports, however, he would be here to finish them. _Both_ of them.

He shook in silent rage, squeezing the handle of his blade.

They would pay for what they had done in both damages and _disrespect._ They would pay dearly.

* * *

"How slow is this stupid thing?!" Yang hissed, resisting the urge to break a damn hole in their metallic transport with her fist. Just how far had the White Fang taken Sibyl and Blake?! As she grinded her teeth against each other, a hand gently laid itself on her shoulder. She spared a glance over her shoulder to see Ruby consoling her with a strained smile. Yang tried to stay angry before sighing, visibly deflating and slumping. Even with as much anger, disappointment, and irritation as she was feeling, the Flame she wielded never stopped glowing lightly in her palm, pointing where Glynda needed to take them.

"Sibyl's tough, and so is Blake. We're going to get there on time," her sister assured, and the brawler nodded in agreement. Sibyl was tough as nails, and she'd seen her partner in a fight against both Grimm _and_ people before. She didn't doubt the two were out there kicking ass and taking names, but she was worried. Worried that, as Sibyl and Blake fought, _one_ of them was shouldering the load and getting in a worse and worse condition.

Some might label it mindless paranoia – or justified paranoia – but Yang… she could _feel_ it _._ Something about Fireball was changing, and it wasn't good. It was dark, and it was cold.

"I know, Ruby. I'm just _worried._ I can still feel him, but it feels different." She bit her lip, trying to think of a better way to explain it. It was hard to put into words, just as she had a hard time describing just what the Flame within her _felt_ like.

"'Different' how?" Pyrrha wondered, the redhead having not stopped pacing since they started flying. The slight crease in her brow hadn't disappeared since hearing of Sibyl and Blake's capture, either. Yang decided to get to know the Mistral Champion a bit better after all of this, probably with more than a few Strawberry Sunrises.

"It's hard to explain. Usually, the Flame's warm and comforting, but… whenever I reach out, I just feel _cold_ , and my skin crawls." She resisted the urge to shiver, instead opting to grip her knee loosely. What the hell could it mean? If normally pyromancy was warm and comforting, but instead she felt cold and near-dead, could… could that mean Sibyl's Flame was fading? Was he dying, and the last of his own pyromancy Flame dimming was what she was feeling?

Was there actually no Flame at all, and the darkness and coldness she felt was his dead _corpse?_ Oh, god, she hadn't even thought about that, but it made sense. Pyromancy was a part of the soul of _whoever_ wielded it, and his felt so _dark_. It had to be it. He was dead; they'd taken too long-

"-ang! Snap out of it!" Ruby screamed, shaking her harshly.

Yang gasped, collapsing back in her chair and allowing the Flame in her hand to dissipate. She slammed her eyes shut, grasping her face with both palms and still panting like a dog.

"H-He's dead. That's why the Flame's cold. He's dead, and I'm feeling his _corpse…_!?"

Her breathing began to quicken, and she started to hyperventilate. If Sibyl was dead, that meant Blake probably was, too. He had lied to Sun; he hadn't been able to take care of both of them. They weren't going to find their friends, alive and breathing. All they'd find is-

"Miss Xiao Long, do calm down." Glynda instructed softly, and Yang nearly leapt across the ship, slugged her in the face, and yelled at her to _shut the hell up._ The only reason she _didn't_ was because Glynda's face was… well, it didn't look _good._ "I have a suspicion on just what is occurring with Sibyl, and while he isn't dead, he might soon be on the path to something worse."

"What are you talking about?" Weiss wondered aloud for _all of them._

"Sibyl has an… infection, I suppose. He does a splendid job to keep it in check, but…" Their blond teacher sighed, reaching one hand up and running it through her hair. "It's not something to be taken lightly."

Yang felt her curiosity piqued, as well as a bit of anger that Sibyl hadn't told anyone _except_ Glynda about it, but before she could ask the same question, Pyrrha spoke.

"What infection?" The usually confident champion asked, voice timid.

"I'm not at liberty to say, but he did once tell me if it overtook him, I should be ready to kill him, because he would try to do the same to us."

Yang shook her head, snarling at the suggestion. "Well, Fireball's a damn idiot. No matter what, we're not killing him, you _bitch_!"

Glynda didn't rebuke in outrage, instead giving Yang a long, cold stare. She felt her Semblance slowly die down, her hair casting off its fiery expression and turning back to the fine blond it usually was.

"That is both my student, my teacher, and a _friend_ ,Miss Xiao Long. I do not intend to _kill him_."

Yang opened her mouth to say something but shut it promptly, sighing softly as she moved back to the seat next to Glynda and held out her hand.

"Right. Sorry, Miss G. I'm just… stressed, I guess." She conjured her Flame again, ignoring the way she nearly flinched out of pure instinct when Sibyl's Flame connected with her, and her own flickered, pointing them to where they needed to go.

"As are we all. As I was saying, I do not intend to kill Sibyl. Rather, I have brought with me a pendant from his bottomless box." She reached into a pocket, removing a silver pendant and handing it to her to examine. Yang did so, _feeling_ the energy within it. "He claimed it is a weapon against the Abyss. It is my hope it'll help fight off his infection."

Yang was silent when she finished speaking, turning to stare at the ground. "I really am sorry about what I said. I guess I forgot you and Sibyl are pretty close, too. He talks about you a lot, actually," Yang observed, and Glynda rose a disbelieving brow.

"Does he?" She questioned, and Yang nodded. Glynda's lips twitched upward in a smile, briefly, before straightening out.

Yang sighed softly, collapsing back in her seat and staring at the Flame which continued to guide and haunt her.

' _Just a bit longer, you two. We'll be there.'_

* * *

They were almost gone, and that was the key information which kept Blake afloat. It was what allowed her to swallow the bile in her throat every time Sibyl threw himself at a crowd of fellow Faunus, slaughtering them without a care of his leg wrapping getting damper and damper with blood, every movement and step aggravating the injury.

He'd mixed his attacks on the Faunus up, too. He had begun with using his sorcery and pyromancy to stage traps. A combination of Hidden Body and Toxic Mist had led to an entire crowd of Faunus having their lungs poisoned and their eyes bleed as the poison took effect. It was neither a slow death nor overly quick, and she had been forced to sit and listen as they all slowly _died._

Still, overtime, his tactics had gotten more and more barbaric. The next encounter had ended with a few casts of Soul Spear piercing through Fang Members and ending their lives, before Sibyl cleaned them up amidst the confusion with pyromancy.

From then on, he had just… _thrown_ himself at them. He used something to close the gap, like Hidden Body or even his Poison Mist to blind them. But, once he got into their ranks, he behaved like a Grimm, attacking whatever was near without pause or rest. His Aura had come back, so bullets were of no worry, but his Aura was also… different. Usually, it was grey, just like his eye color, but his new Aura was that same black and purple tinted energy which had surrounded him earlier.

Despite all of that, Sibyl was still Sibyl, and as he breathed heavily while leaning against a wall, she wanted to ensure he was alright. "Sibyl? Are you okay?" She asked, and he paused, turning to glance over his shoulder. She gasped at seeing his infected eye had grown jagged lines, reaching out across his temple and forehead. A particularly long one even touched the bridge of his nose.

"Shut up," he whispered, grabbing at his head and groaning. She took a step back as he mumbled to himself a bit more, his eye flaring up as he stood and slashed forward with his blade. " _I SAID SHUT UP!"_ He roared, slamming his blade forward into a wall before pulling it out and stabbing it _again and again._

She didn't say anything more, nor did she dare to move forward to comfort him.

Eventually, after a few more moments, Sibyl turned his gaze to her, and blinked. "You… you're not…" he murmured aloud, turning to his blade in the wall and pulling it out. "Where are we?"

Slowly, she stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We're getting close to escaping this place," she explained, and he nodded a few times, sorting his own senses back in order.

"R-Right, right. Do not fret, I will get you out of here safely."

She didn't fear about _herself_ getting out; Sibyl would get her out of here. She just wasn't sure if, when they finally escaped, if Sibyl would still be _Sibyl._ Whatever that dark energy was around him, it wasn't good, and it was only growing.

She didn't hook herself around him, because she was afraid he might go back to… _that,_ but she did walk a bit closer next to him as he hobbled – as clear a sign it was _him_ in control and not the darkness. At least he wasn't completely lost in it, and they were almost out. There couldn't be many more Fang members left, so they just needed to-

"Finally. I was wondering how long I'd have to wait."

Blake froze up, and as Sibyl slowly moved forward, he gave her one final look.

"Leave, Blake. You'll only get in my way," he growled, the energy around his eye swirling.

* * *

He continued to walk forward, and Adam did the same with a confident swagger. "I am _very_ angry," Adam began, and Sibyl nearly laughed. If Adam thought he was angry, then Sibyl would show him just what the essence of pure rage _was_. "You killed my-"

Roaring, the Chosen Undead didn't spend any more time for pleasantries. He closed the distance with a rapid dash, bringing his blade along the ground and slashing upwards, his limp arm swinging forward along with the motion. Adam quickly drew his own weapon and blocked it; Sibyl pushed his blade further forward, cutting against his foe's clothes before being forced to dash backwards to avoid having his legs kicked out.

He threw himself forward again without worry, thrusting his blade forward before swinging it up to redirect Adam's strike. He then slashed horizontally, his blade cutting across Adam's torso and causing the Faunus to jump back with a grunt of pain. Sibyl gave him no reprieve; he had already leapt forward and high into the air, stabbing his blade into the ground where the bull Faunus _had_ been standing. Adam sought to use the opening to punish him, but it was no opening. As Adam dashed forward and sliced horizontally, Sibyl raised his hand, his blade still facing the ground, and blocked the strike.

In the same instant, he brought his leg forward to swipe out his opponent's feet-

And screamed when said opponent _stomped_ on his thigh injury, laughing arrogantly above him. Who did he think he was? Acting as if he had already won, because Sibyl was on the ground? He was the Chosen Undead – the gods themselves had fell before him.

Dark energy began to swirl around him, starting from far out and circling closer and closer.

' _Kill him,'_ a voice whispered in his head, and he dared to listen.

Screaming in a combination of pain and anger, the dark energy finally reached his person and _exploded,_ sending Adam back a dozen or so feet. Slowly, the undead stood, looking at his hand and the energy around it. The Abyss was a mighty weapon, and it was one he'd need to slaughter the fool who dared to oppose him. So, he would continue to use the power to enhance himself.

Taking a deep breath, he blinked slowly and allowed the Abyss to spread freely. Oddly, it didn't numb the pain like using it briefly did. No, instead, Sibyl _screamed,_ because as the darkness spread all over his body, it burned. It burned worse than the Flames of Izalith, than the sting of steel in his stomach, and it doubled the pain of any sorcery he'd ever been struck with. And so, as he fell to his knees, spasming in place due to the pain, his eyes shut.

When they finally reopened, they burned with rage. He stood, his senses enhanced. He could _feel_ someone around him, someone closing rapidly. He turned to look to find-

 _He grunted as his head was slammed back into the wall behind him, his Faunus captor pulling his hair and twisting before continuing to speak, "…to create a Flame, the likes of which may even be greater than the ones detailed in Logan's books."_

Sibyl stepped sideways, bringing the pommel of his blade forward and slamming it into Adam's stomach… or, well, he tried; instead, Adam spun aside, trying to hook behind the undead's ankles and knock him onto the floor. It failed when Sibyl rolled aside, landing on his feet and rushing forward.

The moment he got close, he struck in a flurry of slashes and cuts, each one getting angrier and angrier until he lost most of his form. Adam managed to block or avoid them all without much trouble. Still, he was on the back foot, and as their blades locked, Sibyl moved forward and overpowered him.

Adam fell on his back, putting his feet underneath Sibyl's bruised ribs and pushing off. The Chosen Undead was tossed forward, but he landed on the ground, screaming in anguish at the pain in his leg. His foe quickly rose to his feet, standing in a ready position and panting.

The Chosen Undead stared at that smug face and mask, slowly standing up to his full height.

" _You're trying to recreate them?!" Sibyl demanded in rage, lunging forward against his chains and slurring at Adam with every foul word he knew – the undead felt his head hit the wall behind him when a fist slammed into his eye. He didn't allow the pain to stop him for more than a brief moment, continuing to lunge forward and promising to tear that bastard's heart out-_

Slowly, dark orbs began to form around Sibyl's head, and they _begged_ him for a target. He obliged, walking forward as the slow Pursuers sought the source of humanity in front of him. Adam dashed aside, circling the undead and seemingly unimpressed by the speed with which his sorcery cast traveled. He likely didn't know justhow _long_ they lasted.

Parrying, Sibyl redirected the strike meant for his chest, only to get a foot slamming against his head for his troubles. He stumbled, and Adam slashed from his shoulder across his bare chest, preparing a thrust to follow up the attack. Sibyl, too off balanced to block it, instead twisted his body and sent his limp arm in front of him; the thrust caught his forearm, penetrating it, but not his chest.

He ignored the pain, swinging his own sword at Adam's outstretched arm. The bastard still managed to block it, even when his blade was stuck in Sibyl's limp arm. Still, the undead leaned forward, allowing a cast of Dark Bead to expel itself from his eye.

Adam had seen the dark energy gather, and at that moment, leapt back. It was the only reason he wasn't dead; instead, a few of the expelled Abyss orbs had hit him, but not enough to end the fight. It did _hurt,_ however, and Sibyl took no small amount of joy from that.

"You are _nothing._ A weak-willed fool, who like a moth flittering towards a Flame-"

"… _like a moth, flittering towards a Flame," taunted Lautrec, the golden armor-wearing knight who he had thought his friend. They had all thought him a friend, and he betrayed them, killing the Firelink Shrine Keeper. Sibyl felt himself shake in rage, and he unsheathed the blade at his side, readying to kill-_

Adam was cut off as the Pursuers purred lightly behind him, the sound they made the onlything which kept him from having his chest explode from behind. The Faunus dropped to the ground, rolling backwards and allowing the sorceries to disperse against the ground, instead of his miserable body.

Sibyl leapt high into the air with such height and speed it might have made Artorias proud, the Abyss around him swirling more powerfully than it ever had before. He brought his blade down vertically where Adam was standing, but the bastard had leapt aside. Not wasting a moment and ignoring the squishing of his leg, he launched off the ground, slashing diagonally while ducking beneath a strike from Adam as he rammed into him with his shoulder.

The Faunus absorbed the blow, reached around and tried to put Sibyl into a triangle hold.

It was pitiful _._ Sibyl jerked loose easily, and this time, as he brought the pommel of his blade forward and straight into Adam's ribcage, it _connected._

His opponent dashed backwards, space created between them again. He gritted his teeth at the fact all his effort getting close weren't resulting in anything significant. ' _Pitiful,'_ a voice whispered in his head, one which sounded distinctively like his old teacher, Quelana. ' _Is this the result of all my training? Unable to kill one simple human?'_ Her voice was the same as always, a mix of superiority and indifference.

He growled, tossing his blade on the ground and conjuring a ball of fire in his hand. It glowed not in its normal dark, red hue but rather a mix of black and red. Adam adjusted himself, sheathing his blade but keeping his hand on the handle.

Sibyl tossed his fireball, the great flame exploding violently a few feet from his opponent. Adam dashed aside, and Sibyl had already moved his palm and let loose a stream of fire from it to where he was going. It caught the back of the Faunus's legs, and he grunted, leaping back and patting away the flames.

' _How long are you going to take?'_ Quelana continued to wonder in his mind, ' _Was all my effort and time on you a waste?'_

' _My arm's broken,_ _'_ he thought in return as he leaned down to pick up Solaire's longsword, giving his foe a clear opening. Quelana laughed at him.

' _You really are an undead; your brain must be rotting and crumbling, just like the top of this cave should be. I can't believe my pupil is this weak and foolish,'_ she taunted, and Sibyl shook his head, dismissing the voice just as a blade entered his vision.

He didn't try to avoid it, ignoring the pain as it dug deep into his shoulder, clearly hitting bone. He dropped his own sword once more, never having _really_ intended to actually use it again. Instead, his hand shot forward, wrapping around the steel of his opponent's weapon before it could get pulled out. Slowly, he bent his wrist, the steel stinging as it cut his palm and worked its way out back of his shoulder, resisting the way Adam continuously pulled on it.

When it was finally removed and curved upwards at the end, he turned his eye above. Adam would have just forgone his sword and dodged the attack, so there was no real point in even trying. His Abyss-covered eye promptly busted. Multiple casts of Dark Orbs and Dark Beads shot forward, slamming into the celling. Nothing happened for a few moments before it began to crumble, and Sibyl slowly turned his eye to the Faunus in front of him.

His attempted cast of Dark Bead failed. He had lied; there was a point in attempting it, just in case his foe _didn't_ dodge. Still, the undead was disappointed he didn't get to watch Adam's face be splattered across the ground in bits and blood, but Sibyl didn't waste any time thinking about it. No, instead, he brought his foot forward, slamming it into his foe's sternum and _finally_ let go of the blade he had held so firmly.

Sibyl turned around as Adam slid along the ground, reaching down briefly to grab Solaire's straight-sword, before scanning the area for a few moments, finding the exit as the ceiling fell in all around him. The cave ceiling fully collapsed as he stepped outside, and he smiled. The sound of a nearby gasp was the only thing to be heard outside of the cave collapsing behind him.

* * *

Blake gasped, and why wouldn't she? If Sibyl had been in awful shape before, now… now he might as well have been dead. Something had slashed into his shoulder a few inches deep. His leg wrap had come loose again, but she didn't even care about that.

No, the most concerning thing was his _face_.

His eye's… _infection_ had spread further, and it hadn't done so in any way which could be considered 'geometric' or 'pretty' or 'clean. It branched out lines, bursting out and just… spreading like veins. One reached across his lip all the way down to his chin, while another wrapped its way down his neck and cheek. They spread from his brow to his neck, from his nose and lips to the nearest ear.

He stared at her for a few seconds, his brows scrunching. He began to reach for his sword, and that was when she acted, holding up two hands and _speaking._ "Sibyl! Sibyl, it's me. It's Blake; we've escaped, we're safe! We can go home, go back to Beacon, we can-"

The cursed boy took a step towards her, and though his sword still hadn't left its sheathe, she instinctively flinched back. He continued to walk, and she did his best to hold her ground. Eventually, he got near enough to her she could feel his panted breaths. He leaned against her, sniffing lightly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and it was after those words that he _finally_ collapsed against her. She nearly fell to the ground under his weight but managed to stay upright by embracing him from below. She hooked him around her shoulder more properly this time afterwards, looking around and trying to figure out just _where_ they could go. There weren't many options, so she just decided on a direction and went that way.

Eventually, Sibyl's hobbled self went fully limp, and she was left dragging him to _somewhere_ as he moaned, groaned, and cried out in unconscious pain.

Help was on the way. She _had_ to believe that, otherwise…

"G-Gwyn above, it's so cold," Sibyl mumbled, his body curling instinctively as he spasmed, _"_ _so, so cold."_

Help would get there, that was the hope she had as she laid him on the ground, staring at the sunrise on the horizon. Sibyl, too, opened his eyes briefly with a panted sigh, looking around and staring at the sun before collapsing back on the ground, exhausted and… and something else.

* * *

They'd finally arrived a few minutes ago. Yang's Flame had stopped directing them, instead stilling into a sphere and only _slightly_ pulling somewhere. They were at the base of some collapsed cave, and as she stayed at the front of the group with her Flame as the only guide in the dark night, she readied for a fight.

Glynda was right beside her, given she was the most experience Huntress in the group. Yang could _feel_ Sibyl getting closer, and that was enough to let a bit of hope blossom in her. Eventually, she even began to hear something. It took a few moments of listening to realize just what it was: screams.

Blood chortling screams.

She spared a glance to those following behind her before _sprinting,_ fighting through foliage until the screams got so loud, they were practically being yelled into her damn ear.

Clearing the last of the tree line, she felt her breath leave.

"S-Sibyl, Sibyl, it's fine," Blake insisted, trying to keep Fireball pinned on the ground as he _flailed around like a damn fish!_ He arched his back, struggling against her grip before collapsing, muttering under his breath in rasped voice. _"No, no! I didn't – this isn't real, none of this is-"_ his screaming started back up in earnest, and Yang finally felt her initial shock leave.

"Blake?!" She yelled, her wonderful Faunus partner looking over her shoulder with complete, utter relief. Yang didn't feel any of that, though, because Blake was covered in dried blood. It was on her clothes, it was in her hair, and it covered her face like paint. Yang gasped lightly as Blake let go of Sibyl, standing to a feet and sprinting at her. Yang didn't hesitate to wrap up her partner in the warmest hug she could muster, which wasn't anywhere nearly warm enough considering she couldn't stop feeling all the blood on Blake smattering on _her_ body, not to mention her teacher was on the ground _screaming in pain_ all the while.

"Y-Yang, thank god, it's Sibyl, he's-" Blake suddenly tensed up, reaching for the blade on her back on pure instinct as the rest of Yang's supposed rescue gang finally arrived. The black-haired Huntress relaxed at seeing just who it was, only to widen her eyes at Weiss.

Yang blinked when Blake suddenly _threw_ her aside, rushing forward and embracing Weiss as she cried. It was so very… un-Blake like, and Yang watched for a moment before mumbled begs of _"Lies, all of it!"_ reached her ears.

She turned to stare at Fireball, only to find Glynda was already standing over him, doing her best to calm him down. Sparing one final glance at Blake, who was talking in gasps and cries to Ruby and Weiss, Yang decided her partner would be fine for a few moments.

Rushing over, she slid to a stop next to Sibyl, and he was a mess. One of his fingers was wrapped, but she could see the little bit of bone jutting against it. His thigh, too, was wrapped, but the bandages were completely blood-soaked and loose. Every time he jerked forward, his left arm stayed limp, flopping along with the motion but not _moving._

Not to mention the multiple cuts and _new_ scars she could see on his torso, all of which looked very recent. Covering it all was blood. He looked like he'd bathed in it; his usually blue-tinted hair was instead soaked with dried crimson. Yet, the most concerning thing was his face. One of his eyes was swollen nearly shut, and the other… Yang wasn't even sure how to describe it.

Opposed to his eyepatch, there was a bursting darkness. Lines like veins ran from it all across his face, where previously they hadn't been there at all. Slowly, as Glynda felt his pulse and reached into her pocket, Yang laid her hand on his face and over his eye-

Sibyl suddenly grabbed her wrist and sat up, staring with one wide eye and whatever… whatever the black _thing_ was. She could even see a glimpse of his eye _beneath_ the darkness. He kept his gaze locked on her for a few moments, breathing heavily.

"F-Fireball?" She asked aloud, and he nodded, slowly. She didn't try and remove her hand, instead moving it down and cupping his chin and cheek. "It's Yang. You're… you're gonna' be okay, alright?"

Sibyl shook his head, muttering something about an 'Artorias'.

Suddenly, he _screamed,_ laying back down and slamming his head into the ground multiple times. Yang was dragged with him for a moment, quickly adjusting her hand from his chin and cheek to under the back of his head to cushion his cranium.

Glynda had finally retrieved the pendant and was trying to put it around his neck, but he just wouldn't stop jerking around! "Yang, Pyrrha, Sun," their blond instructor began, and Yang finally realized that the redhead was sitting right next to her along with the monkey Faunus, "Keep him steady for a moment." The three nodded in unison, and Yang grabbed his shoulders while Pyrrha steadied his head. Sun kept his lower body from flailing around.

"What the hell happened to him!?" Sun wondered aloud, voice a mixture of anger and fear. Yang sure as hell didn't know what had happened to him, and she didn't _want_ to know.

The pendant was slipped on quickly, and Yang waited with baited breath for it to _do_ something. Instead, it just… sat there, against his chest, as he struggled to get loose from her and Pyrrha's hold. "It's not working," Yang hissed, turning to glare at Glynda who had an utterly helpless look on her face.

"I-I don't know," she admitted with a furrowing of her brows, "He never told me how it worked, just that it expelled the Abyss." It was utterly _useless,_ then, and they were just going to have to watch as Sibyl continued to wiggle and writhe in pain until he probably _died?_

"It's not normal," Pyrrha declared, closing her eyes, "I can't feel it. I can't feel the metal."

Yang blinked, not entirely sure what the Mistral champion was talking about. Slowly, Pyrrha reached forward, grabbing the silver pendant in her hand.

It began to glow with some sort of energy, and Yang blocked her face when it _exploded,_ the rush of air blowing her hair back. Sibyl had opened his eyes again and was busy gasping for breath on the floor. He glanced around at them after a few brief moments, with a hopeful expression appearing briefly before he went and squeezed his eyes shut again.

"More lies," he declared with a pained voice, "It's all lies! Quit taunting me! I am nothing more than a husk, just like Artorias," he choked on his own words, and for the first time _ever,_ Yang heard Sibyl cry.

Sibyl! Her teacher, someone so incredible she thought he came from another damn world. Yet, as he laid on the ground, looking like a complete mess with tears staining his eyes, she realized what he really was. An eighteen year old boy, who, based upon his scars and his eyes, had been through more than what anyone should ever have to endure.

"Please, no," he whispered, reaching one hand up to clutch at his face and the darkness.

She cleared her throat, taking his hand in hers and squeezing. "Sibyl, it's me. This is _real,_ we're real. You're safe; you and Blake are safe!" Whatever effect her words were supposed to have, she didn't know, because Sibyl stayed there and continued to shake, sobbing. Eventually, his sobs quietened down, and she realized it was because he had _passed out._

Even still, he continued to shudder in his sleep with only brief pauses between

She tried to shake him awake, but nothing worked. She couldn't do anything to help him. _She couldn't do anything to help him,_ and that hurt worse than damn near anything else.

"He's been like this for a while," Blake said from behind her, the sudden voice enough to make Yang flinch. She glanced over her shoulder to see her partner wiping away a few tears.

Weiss slowly crouched down next to them, staring at Sibyl for a few moments. "We need to get out of here," she declared, turning to look at Glynda. Their teacher nodded, and Yang didn't say anything when, as opposed to simply picking Sibyl up with her Semblance, she instead grabbed him from beneath and lifted, holding him close.

He struggled against the grip for a few moments before settling somewhat. Yang said somewhat because he _still_ would occasional grunt or flail. Idly, the blond noticed the darkness around his eye seemed to have… settled? It wasn't almost glowing like before. No, it just shifted as if it was alive.

Had he been hiding that underneath his eyepatch? Whatever he had done had caused it to spread a _lot,_ because she could see it all the way down towards his neck.

"…I didn't expect this," Pyrrha suddenly said from beside her, and Yang nodded. "Some rescue team we were," she continued, grasping the weapon held in her hand tighter.

Sun laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, shaking his own head. "At least we're here now. We can get them somewhere safe, right?" The Faunus said, eliciting a nod from the accomplished champion.

As they moved through the foliage, Yang slowly fell back from the group, walking next to Blake. Her partner had her arms crossed and was… not looking very composed or very Blake-like. She opened her mouth to say something, but Blake had already started speaking.

"He stopped them, Yang," she whispered just loud enough for her to hear, "He stopped them from turning me into that, but also he stopped them because I couldn't. If I can't stop a few White Fang soldiers, why am I even here?" The Faunus wondered aloud, and Yang laid a hand on her shoulder – only to have it knocked off with a quick swipe.

"No! You don't get it, Yang! I was worthless this whole time – and look at Sibyl!" She gestured ahead to the group, who had stopped briefly to glance back. "He handled _everything._ He stopped Adam; he _slaughtered_ the rest of the White Fang in the base, and… and he _saved me_ from _that,"_ she whispered, shivering lightly and staring at her own chest.

Yang still wasn't sure what exactly Blake was talking about, but-

Wait. Blake was staring at her chest, or more specifically, _her left breast._ Yang felt her breathing still, and she grabbed her partner on the shoulder, powering through the attempt to swipe it off. "Did they…?"

Slowly, Blake nodded.

"They tried. He… he was so _angry,_ and he murdered them. He crushed one of their throats like a tin can, and he burned through one of their chests with his pyromancy." Blake stared ahead without any emotion, slowly thinning her lips. "And I liked it. I liked that he didn't listen to them, because _they didn't listen to me._ I was _happy_ that he murdered them."

Slowly, her partner tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked breath. Yang didn't hesitate to pull her into a hug, squeezing tightly and rubbing her back. She whispered that everything was alright, but it _wasn't alright._ Nothing was alright, and nothing would be alright for a while.

"Wish I coulda' seen him rip them apart," Sun mumbled nearby, and Yang was hard-pressed to disagree. Because if Sibyl hadn't, she would have tracked those bastards down and broke every single bone in their body before killing them herself.

Blake just continued to cry, and Yang didn't say anything as Weiss and Ruby both joined in the hug. Glynda spared a glance back but given she was carrying a spasming young man in her hands, she didn't stop. Yang didn't blame her.

Sun slowed down and stood nearby, not coming too close, which was a good idea, because he was a man and Yang wasn't entirely sure how Blake would respond to anyone but Sibyl at the moment. Pyrrha stayed close as well, but didn't join in. She probably didn't think she knew them well enough to help comfort.

"I'm sorry about everything," Weiss declared, her own voice shaky, "If I had just listened, you wouldn't have run away. You wouldn't have been brought _here,_ that never would have happened, and Sibyl… Sibyl would be okay," she whispered, closing her eyes.

Slowly, the hug broke apart. Blake wiped at her eyes, swallowing a lump in her throat. She tried to speak but shook her head, burying past them. "I'm… I'm fine. Sibyl's who we ought to be worried-"

"No," Ruby said firmly, "You're not fine. _Nothing_ about this is fine! Sibyl isn't fine; you're not fine!" Her sister breathed heavily, and she alone then embraced Blake. "I just… I just want everything to be _normal_ again."

Yang wasn't going to disagree.

Blake took a deep breath. "I'll explain everything when we get back to Beacon, but… please, let's just get somewhere safe."

Safety. That's what they needed- they needed to get Blake and Sibyl somewhere they could recover. They _needed_ to recover, and she needed to help them. She'd done a piss-poor job helping rescue them so far, but she wasn't going to let that continue.

She was going to make sure everything was as fine as it could be.


	11. To Be Chosen

_**Chapter 11, completed and beta'd. I'd like to thank everyone reviewed, as well as a reviewer in particular who has a story in this**_ _ **same exact fandom: a Dark Souls/RWBY crossover: Archangel Writings. As for a few other reviews, as Reaper6883 asked: I will be joining the Air Force in the spring, assuming all goes well. Another shout out to a reviewer by the user Lone Commentor, who I'm pretty sure has been following around since around the beginning of this story and giving me a lot of good feedback. I appreciate all of you, and, well... here we go.**_

* * *

If there was one thing he could say for certain, it was the Undead, who'd been a thorn in his side ever since the two met, had the single most impressive talent for death and destruction of anyone he had ever seen or met. Really, as he scoured the ruins of the collapsed cave and 'secret' research facility, he was downright impressed!

He would have struggled to bring down a damn cave atop his own head during a fight, but not Sibyl.

While he wasn't too shabby in his own right, his particular brand of death-bringing was precise and clean, not to mention stylish. Death was an _art,_ after all, and Sibyl… Sibyl made some of the ugliest, yet most brutally beautiful art he'd ever seen. He still remembered when the Undead had finished _his_ phantom form off. It had been a close fight, but, well… close wasn't good enough.

He was still rather miffed about that. The fact the bloody Undead had come _back_ to him after that, attempting to purchase some wares? He was either thick in the head or trying to rub it in.. _._ He'd bet his souls on the latter. Regardless, he'd continue to sell to him. Souls were souls, after all, and he, like all Undead, were in dire need of them. Not to mention they'd been the only two sane beings in that damnable city, without counting a grieving lover, a _mushroom,_ and a philosophical, blind giant. It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke…

Still, back to Sibyl and the destruction he had brought on Adam's little facility. The Faunus had been doing some dirtythings here – absolutely _treacherous_ things, really. It was enough to even make _him_ feel a bit sick. He was a killer, of course, and one with remarkably low morals, but there were some lines even he wouldn't cross. Adam? Adam had crossed those lines, so more than a small part of him was rather looking forward to what he had been assigned to do.

Still, as he hopped from a large fallen rock to a smaller one, a much larger part of him wished he hadn't been assigned to do this. It was just so… _boring._ He'd rather be having a nice dinner or watching one of those odd movies which were just _ever_ so enjoyable. This world was truly something incredible.

If there was one thing to be thankful to that Undead for, it was bringing him here.

He had experienced no small number of somethings which had been damn near impossible to imagine until Sibyl inadvertently dragged _him_ here, with that bright flash of white. He'd been tailing the Undead, trying to see how his fight with Manus would go, and preparing to strike when Sibyl was most unprepared for it. That all went up in smokes, yet he was thankful, because this world was a large step up from his previous one.

They had a sense of fashion, for one. And, well… he had found himself quite the lady. Deadly, beautiful, ambitious, and with a quiet, cold fury which brought just a bit of life back to his Undead bones. That was _before_ she made his bones rattle – and that was an experience he'd never tire of! He'd been here for nearly two years, and they were the best two years of his life. The rest of his life was looking up, too, as soon as they completed their mission and took care of their mutual so-called 'master'.

And now, his dear friend had finally decided to reveal himself. Really, the last thing he'd expected was the Undead to be attending Beacon Academy; it seemed fate had saw fit to put them on opposite ends, once again. Sibyl, so idealistic, so… _foolish,_ and then him.

Yes, they'd chosen their sides. Only time would tell if they'd picked right, but the mystery was half the fun.

He paused, straining his ears to listen. He definitely heard _something,_ and it was probably his mark. Adjusting his large crossbow to rest up against his shoulder, he walked until it got louder and louder.

Eventually, he was left looking at a loose rock. Giving it a solid kick with his own Undead-enhanced strength, it rolled off, revealing just the angry, bull-headed Faunus he'd been looking for.

Adam took deep breaths, staring up at him with a snarl. " _You!_ Get me out of here, you little-"

Yawning beneath his mask, the Undead crouched down, tilting his head lightly. Had no one ever taught the poor fool manners? He hadn't even said 'please'!

"You're really feeling the heat now, aren't you?" He sighed, as the over-ambitious Faunus cursed his name, "You really should have thought long and hard before trying to use that Undead for anything other than a quick kill." He stood up and gave the Faunus a swift kick in the head which shut his stupid mouth.

Well, it did more than that. Judging by the crunching sound, he'd broken the fool's jaw. How swell.

"But, it's all the same to me. Cinder doesn't like you, and whatever she doesn't like, _I_ don't like. Really, what you did to those girls in the basement? Simply dreadful," he laughed as he finished speaking, tuning out what most of the Faunus said. It didn't matter what the animal said – he was already dead, even if he still had illusions of grandeur about _surviving_ and getting revenge.

People really were foolish. Every single one of them. Stretching lightly, he adjusted his crossbow from his shoulder, so it was pointing at the head which stuck out from the ground. Taking aim down the sights, he saw realization finally dawning in Adam's eyes. "Not to worry. We'll make good use of your soldiers," he informed, finally discharging his bolt and watching as it penetrated right between the Faunus's eyes at the bridge of his nose.

He loved the sound it made as it entered. There was nothing like it,and he licked his lips beneath the mask as the schlicking of his bolt firing and penetrating his foe's skull sounded.

" _Marvelous."_

Whistling, he reached down, pulling the bolt out from Adam's skull and returning it to his quiver at his backside. "I _love_ this land," he whispered, giving Adam's head one last kick with his foot, before laughing hysterically.

* * *

 _It was dark. Everything around him was dark. A darkness which left him feeling so very, very cold. He had never liked the dark, always preferring the light and its welcoming rays. Yet the warmth of the sun was a long way from him now, and as he tried to look around, all he could see was black. It went on forever and everywhere, from beneath him, above him, to all around._

 _He felt as if he was drowning. As if he stood in a river, the water slowly rising and battering his body until, eventually, he took too much of a beating and sunk neck deep. It was hard – nae,_ _ **impossible**_ _to breathe. He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe?_

 _Where was he? He… he couldn't remember anything._

 _Him and Blake had been captured, and he should have finally killed that bastard Adam, and then he was… here. What had he missed?_

" _Oho!" A familiar voice sounded from behind him, and he blinked, slowly turning to look. It was Siegemeyer. His dear, dear friend was here, and that was the first good news he had received in forever. "It seems like we've found ourselves backed into another dangerous corner, hmm, friend?" The older knight chuckled, adjusting his blade against his shoulder._ " _Not to worry. I'll think up a plan to get us out of here in no time at all."_

 _Sibyl nodded, smiling at his friend's words. It was simply nice to not be alone. He had never liked being alone, and he never would. It reminded him too much of his earlier days, trapped in that asylum, wondering how long until he cracked and began slamming his Hollowed head into the walls._

 _Still, even if Siegemeyer was here, Sibyl couldn't speak or move. Perhaps his friend would be able to free him? The Onion Knight slowly maneuvered over, striking his blade into the Abyss and allowing it to rest there as he crossed his arms, humming while he stared at Sibyl's predicament._

" _Hmm, perhaps if I were to cut around you – no, no, that won't work," he murmured under his breath, but Sibyl blinked at seeing his friend was… getting shorter? He glanced his eyes down – and just his eyes, because his head refused to move. He glanced down, and Siegemeyer wasn't getting shorter. He was sinking, and he didn't even realize it!_

 _Sibyl opened his mouth to say something, but the force against his jaw kept it hinged shut. Even as he tried to scream…_ _ **beg**_ _his friend to pay attention, no noise was made. Eventually, Siegemeyer was dragged completely under the Abyss – and Sibyl screamed even more quietly as his body was ripped apart beneath the Abyss surface, until eventually, nothing remained but the same, black darkness which both bound and surrounded him._

" _Tis' a shame," the voice of Gough suddenly echoed around him, the usually joyful giant sounding depressed. Sibyl quickly tore his eyes up from the Abyss beneath him. "To suffer the same fate as Artorias…"_

 _What? Siegemeyer wasn't immediately important – mostly because Gough's words had made him realize what this was. It was the Abyss trying to corrupt his mind and his soul._

 _But no, he wasn't corrupted. He would know if that was the case, and certainly, it wasn't. Shaking his head, Sibyl opened his mouth to speak when he felt something pull on his feet. Glancing down, he saw the Abyss had begun to work its way up his legs- no, no. He was_ _ **falling**_ _deeper into it. The Abyss wasn't moving;_ _ **he**_ _was falling into the darkness, just like had happened to Siegemeyer?_

 _Well, he wasn't going to get ripped apart._

 _He struggled. He had to get out;_ _ **he was going to get out.**_ _He would get out of this. He would not become another Artorias. He would survive, and he would return to Lordran. The Chosen Undead had a destiny to fulfill; failing here was not an option._

 _Yet, as he tried to pull his feet out from the Abyss, he simply sank deeper and deeper, until eventually, he couldn't move. He felt as if he was both drowning and buried alive; his throat burned as he tried to scream, yet nothing came out. Eventually, the Abyss tightened around him so closely he couldn't even wiggle, much less flail and struggle from his bindings._

 _All was silent for a few moments, and it was deafening. Then, a moment thereafter, voices began to murmur. Slowly, more and more were added to the mix, until eventually, they were so loud and jumbled Sibyl was struggling to make out more than a few words. He longed to plug his ears with his fingers, but he couldn't move. His arms remained at his side as he struggled, flailing but not even moving a muscle at the same time._

 _They accused_ _ **him**_ _._

" _Murderer!"_

" _I thought we were brothers, yet you didn't even hesitate-"_

" _I only wanted to protect my sick sister, and then you-"_

" _Couldn't even bother to guide me to Quelana, could you? You killed me," Laurentius hissed into his ears, and he tried to tune the words out._

 _They were lies. This was all lies! There had been no way to know how things would turn out. He had only ever done the best he could!_

 _Why couldn't they understand that?! He was eighteen; he was a_ _ **boy**_ _! He wanted to die, but it was impossible! Everyone else got what he craved, and in doing so, they left him more and more alone. Yet… and only now did he realize this, he took their souls. He had his friends' souls within him, and he had even used their souls for… what, exactly? To strengthen himself? What good was strength when he had no one to protect!? Gods, what was wrong with him?! He hadn't even hesitated to strike Solaire down when that bug drove him mad._

 _He blamed instinct, but that was no real excuse._

" _And to think," Lautrec taunted, "you thought of_ _ **me**_ _as the monster."_

 _Sibyl shook his head, trying to take a deep breath, but he was still choking. Still, he managed to force a few words out._

" _Lies! All of it!" It was all lies. None of these words were real. It was the work of the Abyss, trying to weaken his resolve. It had to be._

" _Your lies never cease," Rhea informed, and he flinched. He, despite the force against them, slammed his eyes shut and refused to look. She haunted him the worst of all. "You promised to protect me! Instead, Sir Petrus-" He tried to shut the voices up, tried to reach a hand up to cover his ears. Yet he couldn't move, and he was forced to listen. Eventually, his eyes were made to open, and he gasped._

 _Rhea stood before him, her white robes covered in blood and in tatters, and he could see visible bruises over her bare skin and breast. He knew what Petrus had done to her – the same thing which had nearly happened to Blake. He swallowed as she slowly walked up closer, leaning in with those dead, cold eyes which were once quite beautiful._

" _I didn't-"_

 _She reached a hand for his throat and began to choke him, and it_ _ **burned**_ _. His throat burned as if someone had shoved a fireball directly into his throat! His eyes glanced down, and he noticed her hand was black like, the Abyss. "Would you pray with me?" She asked, the Abyss on her arm continuing to crawl more and more up her arm._

 _Eventually, she loosened one of her Abyssal hands and moved it up to cover his Abyssal eye. He screamed, reaching a hand forward and grasping-_

Yang. Why was Yang here? He stared at her with wide eyes, breathing heavily and trying to get himself under control.

"Fireball?" She asked, and he nodded. That was her nickname for him: Fireball. He quite liked it. He liked Yang. She was funny, adventurous, and strong. A great pyromancer in the making, too. But why was she here? Why was she here in his mental battle with the Abyss?

Her hand slowly moved from his face to cupping his chin and cheek. "It's Yang. You're… you're gonna' be okay, alright?"

No, she didn't get it. How could she? They had no idea what he was, what he could _become._ He was a freak, and they didn't understand that. He shook his head at her insistence that he'd be okay. She was wrong.

"Artorias… I'll be like _Artorias_ ," he muttered, turning to look at Yang-

 _She laid on the ground, her body cut in half and her beautiful face burnt into something unrecognizable. He stood over her, body covered in darkness, and kept stabbing her body. Blood gushed out of the wound, slapping up against his face and into his eyes, yet the stabbings did not stop. Why wouldn't he stop!? Why couldn't he stop!?_

 _Sibyls screamed, doing anything he could to stop stabbing her. He had to. Why was he doing this?! He threw himself onto his back, slamming his head into the ground with the hope it would crack his damn skull and finally end his life. It didn't work, because the ground was far too soft-_

 _His eyes widened further when the Abyss began to creep over his body as it laid down, clamping around his legs, shoulders, and head with a dark imitation of hands._

 _Glancing, he saw what was holding him down. Abyssal sprites which masqueraded as people. Well, he wouldn't have it – he would not find himself ended here to the Abyss. He was going to fight, and he was going to tear these things apart with his bare hands if he had to!_

 _And so, he fought against their grip. But it was a firm grip, as firm as the Iron Giant who stood atop Sen's Fortress. And slowly, they began to reach across his body, tying some sort of… thing around his neck?! He wanted to rip it off; it hurt! It burned him terribly, and he knew instantly it was a device of the Abyss meant to finalize his corruption._

 _One of the Abyssal human-imitators reached forward, grabbing the device and_ _ **squeezing**_ _. His body screamed in protest and-_

Sibyl gasped, suddenly able to _see_ if only for a moment. He glanced around, and it was a great sight – his friends, surrounding him. Glynda, Yang, Pyrrha and even Sun. And, if he squinted, their image overlapped with his friends of old. Quelana, Solaire, Laurentius, and especially the Darkmoon Knightress. Yet… yet that was impossible. Half of those people were dead or gone, not to mention he had _felt_ that damn Abyssal device expel upon his body. It had to have been his final transformation. This was just an illusion: it was all lies. Or… or perhaps he did see them, and he had ended them in his madness.

No, he refused to believe that…

But Artorias, moments before his death, had proclaimed aloud to have seen his dearest friends. He… he must be sharing the same fate.

"It's all lies! Quit taunting me, damnable Abyss! I am nothing more than a husk, just like Artorias!"

He had failed. He had failed on his mission, just as he had failed his friends. And… and if he truly was corrupted, then he must have killed Blake. She was dead by his hand.

Reaching a hand up to his face, he clutched the dark eye which had started his journey to the end. "Please, no…" he whispered, and it was with those final words that he fell unconscious. His dreams were haunted once more.

* * *

It wasn't natural. That was what Weiss decided as she watched Sibyl's sleeping face contort with pain, fear, and who knows what else. Sibyl, her teacher, dear friend, and someone she, just maybe, even admired on a deeper level. The guy who beat everyone in combat class with ease…. when he decided to show up, though he had yet to fight with Pyrrha.

He was the guy teaching her and Yang amazing things. Things which should have been impossible, and yet, they weren't. The guy who, despite _everything_ he had endured, was stronger than anyone she knew, mentally and physically.

The boy who wowed them with stories, who showed off drawings of his dead, lost friends not with a frown, but with a smile as he reminisced. _That_ kind boy laid on the bed, shaking with the passing of so many different, _terrible_ emotions. His usually strong body was left looking so weak and meek. So yes, it wasn't natural, because Sibyl wasn't supposed to _ever_ look so defeated. He was so proud and confident, with the strength to back it up.

He wasn't… _this._

Weiss frowned as she stared at him and the few tubes connected to him, not to mention the many different bandages and wrappings. Sighing softly and glancing to Yang and Blake, both of whom sat asleep in separate chairs, her frown only deepened. Ruby had left to get them some coffee, because they were all taking shifts to see when Sibyl would wake up. It had been two days since they got back, and he still just… _laid there._

All the while, Weiss continued to feel her guilt grow. It built up every time she saw Blake, and most certainly every time she glanced at Sibyl's comatose state. Her… grievances with the White Fang and refusal to hear Blake out had led to all of this.

Sibyl crying out in his sleep was _her fault._

Blake nearly being raped was _her fault_.

Blake _still_ being violated was _her fault_ , and every single drop of blood they'd found on both Sibyl and Blake when they first encountered the both of them was also _her fault_. It didn't matter if it was White Fang blood or their own; neither should have ever been put into a position where they _had_ to kill someone or be injured so gravely.

Sibyl shouldn't have been put into a position for that… t _hing_ to grow. It stretched out from his eye to his jaw and didn't seem to be receding. She slowly walked forward, tracing one of the lines which split off from his eye socket and traveled around to the back of his neck, going right beneath his ear.

It was _her fault._

It didn't matter if Ruby, Yang, and Blake herself all insisted otherwise. The truth was the truth, and she faced it with a flinch and mumbled whispers of how _sorry_ she was.

Blake had shared the details yesterday, and Weiss remembered it all with a clenched fist.

" _It was everywhere," Blake whispered, slowing moving her hand up her forearm and towards her face. "The blood was warm. Really warm, and I never even had a chance to wash it away. It just… dried all over me, but that was nothing compared to Sibyl. He practically_ _ **bathed**_ _in it." The cat Faunus took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "When the darkness spread… I think he_ _ **liked**_ _it," she added, unable to stop from choking fully._

Every drop of blood was _her fault._

Every life Sibyl took was _her fault._

Every uncomfortable feeling Blake now had to deal with was _her fault._

Sibyl losing himself to _whatever_ the hell that darkness which stained his usually good-looking face was _her fault._

" _We made it to the basement, and he was still limping. I-It was after we found our gear. What we found down there…" Blake shuddered, rubbing her own palm briefly. "He knew what they were. Fire Keepers. Or, well, that was what they were supposed to be." She paused, staring ahead blankly. "They didn't even look like people. They weren't people by the time we found them. They… they looked like standing slugs, with blue tendrils coming out of their heads! And… and Sibyl, he killed them all. One of them was half transformed, and he held her, he told her everything was going to be okay as he looked into her one good eye – then he shoved his sword through her chest. Not because he wanted to, but because it was the only thing he could do."_

She had forced Sibyl to do that. To take a life he didn't want to… to take responsibility for whatever that absolute _bastard_ had done to turn those poor women into… whatever Blake was describing. It certainly didn't sound pleasant. But Sibyl took responsibility – apparently it was his teacher's fault, yet still, he blamed himself.

He should have blamed _her_. They all should have blamed her – her teammates should be ostracizing _her_ , not trying to comfort her! Didn't they get it? Sibyl may never recover, and it was _her damn fault!_ Blake was going to be haunted by the memory of what almost happened _forever,_ both her near-violation and near-transformation into those _things,_ all because Weiss was ignorant, stupid, and hateful.

It was all her fault, and that was the truth.

 _Weiss blinked as Blake wrapped her in a hug, doing her best to ignore the stench of dried blood entering her nostrils and the sound of the Faunus's choked cry. "I'm so sorry," Blake mumbled through the embrace, and Weiss was forced to blink again._

Blake had apologized to her the _moment_ they saw each other. Weiss had expected a slap, some harsh words, maybe even the cold shoulder, but not… _that_. It made no sense! Everything was her fault! Why didn't they get that!? Why _couldn't_ they understand?

"Weiss?" Ruby suddenly spoke, and the Schnee heiress slowly turned around, trying to stop the shaking of her hand and the tears forming in her eyes as she grasped the cup of coffee her partner had brought. She took a deep breath, composing herself and nodding in thanks as she stopped her shaking.

"Yes, Ruby?" She answered, finally, doing the best she could to keep her voice stable and normal. It only half-worked.

"…do you think things will go back to normal once Sibyl wakes up?" Her leader asked softly as she stared into her own coffee.

Weiss sighed just as softly, running a hand through her own hair as her gaze turned back to Sibyl. "No. I don't think so."

Things were silent for a few moments after she finished speaking, and Weiss almost apologized off instinct for not being more positive. Then, Ruby spoke.

"Yeah. I didn't think so, either." Ruby paused, taking a deep breath before speaking so rapidly Weiss only barely heard her. "Do you think he _will_ wake up?"

It was a tough question to answer, and so she didn't. Then again, that might have been enough of an answer in and of itself.

* * *

Yang was suddenly awoken, and it was to the sight of Ruby shaking her awake.

"Something's happening with Sibyl!"

The blonde blinked, the words her sister had hissed taking a few moments to register. When they did, she sat up _very_ quickly, practically jumping out of her seat.

"W-What's happening?" She asked, and Ruby gave a panicked shrug while gesturing towards her teacher. Following the outstretched arm, Yang quickly moved past Blake and Weiss, coming to Sibyl's side and… what was she looking at?

He looked like a burn victim, mixed with a thinning corpse! He didn't seem to be in _pain,_ at least, as he was still breathing softly. Giving a helpless glance to those around her, she noticed only Blake didn't seem _too_ alarmed.

It was the only thing which stopped her from completely losing her shit.

"He's shown me this before," the Faunus murmured, and Yang waited for her to elaborate. The bow-wearing girl shook her head, turning to look at those around. "He's shown me this before. He said he was cursed, then he touched something on his neck and this happened. He… changed."

Yang didn't say anything when Blake slowly inched forward, reaching with her hand around Sibyl's neck and shoulder and touching something-

Sibyl suddenly, without warning and with a jerk, sat up in the bed, breathing heavy and attempting to straighten his back. He stayed like that for only a few moments, glancing around. "…Yang, Ruby?" He mumbled, squinting briefly before tentatively reaching a hand up to his face.

He slowly felt around, and his hand stilled upon feeling the Abyssal line which went from his eye socket to his upper lip. Sighing softly, he removed his hand – but blinked upon seeing the wrinkled and dead-looking palm. "I'm Undead," he mumbled, repeating it again for good measure before his eyes suddenly widened.

Reaching for the back of his neck in a rapid motion, he pressed two fingers in the same area Blake had done so, and immediately upon doing so, his body began to get more… livelier. His wrinkles disappeared, his skin tone returned to normal, and he stopped looking like a corpse and returned to appearing alive.

Yang blinked, and as Sibyl exhaled softly while his body continued to finish changing, she decided to speak while inching forward, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. He didn't pull away from her touch, but he also didn't return it.

"Fireball? Are you okay?"

He sighed softly, turning to look away from his palm and over at her.

"I'm unsure. Unsure if you're real – unsure if I am anything but a corrupted husk. Unsure if I _killed_ all of you." He paused, trying to keep eye contact but failing, instead turning his gaze to the ground.

Yang, though, had bigger concerns than his failure to keep eye contact.

"You're alive, Sibyl. We're all alive – and whatever was happening to you, that pendant Glynda knew about stopped it," Blake explained, and the infected warrior nodded.

"Possible, I suppose. Still… no, this feels too real. Far too real. Is… is it real?" He wondered aloud, voice soft and _afraid._

Yang slowly inched forward, pulling him into a hug which was one-sided, because he certainly didn't return it.

Still, she felt the muscles in his shoulder lose their stiffness, and so she was glad she had decided to give him a hug. "This is real, Fireball. We were all so worried about you – _I_ was worried about you," she added, slowly removing him from her firm grasp.

"…I appreciate the sentiment," he mumbled, and she noticed he couldn't meet her eyes and kept flinching every time he looked at _any_ of them. "You all have questions, correct?" He whispered softly, turning his head and scanning through their gazes – or, well, doing his best. Yang nodded, and so too did he. "I will answer them. I will answer them all, no more lies. Please, gather Glynda, Pyrrha, and her team. Until then, I would like to be left alone to think."

"What? You just woke up! We need to make sure you're okay-" Yang began, but Sibyl held up a hand to stop her. She begrudgingly did so.

"Please. I need to shift through my mind to cleanse the… less–than-pleasant memories your faces beckons."

She blinked at that, unsure why Sibyl _wouldn't_ be happy to see them and their faces. Had they done something? Was he mad it had taken them so long to find him-

"…did you hallucinate?" Blake asked softly, and Sibyl hummed before giving a hollow chuckle.

"By the gods, I do hope so, Blake. Otherwise…" he paused, taking a deep breath and blinking a few times in a sign he was trying not to _cry._ "Please, just… give me a few minutes."

Blake nodded, but Yang wasn't so sure that was a good idea. He'd just woken up, and they were all so excited to see him, and he just wanted them to _leave him alone?_

"We can do that," Weiss declared, interrupting Yang's train of thought. "We're just glad to see you're safe," The heiress finished, grabbing Yang by the upper arm and pulling her away.

The three were left in the hallway, as Ruby had already left to get Pyrrha and the others. Things were silent for a few moments, before Weiss tried to speak. "Well, he's awake. That's good," she mumbled, staring at the door they had been kicked out from.

"He's… upset," Blake said, brows furrowing lightly. Yang raised an eyebrow, because that much was obvious. "I can hear him," the cat Faunus whispered, and _then_ Yang realized why Blake had said it aloud. While they were all concerned for Sibyl, only one of them had _yet_ to leave his side, and that was Blake. It made sense, given she was only _alive_ thanksto him.

Yang hadn't really left much either, but she _had_ returned to her dorm to get a few things. Blake refused to even do that.

"It's natural. Given the… nature of what we heard and _saw_ , it's safe to assume his hallucinations weren't pleasant," Weiss explained, and the three were left in silence after that.

Yang slowly caught up with the train of thought, and her mind settled on what Sibyl had been talking about.

The… hallucinations. They couldn't have been that bad, could they have? Yet, he had refused to even _look_ at them. He flinched every single time they tried to meet eyes, and he had to stop himself from crying. Sibyl didn't _cry,_ even if Yang thought it'd be good for him to do so.

There was also what he had told Blake. It was a lot to take in, and her free time didn't last long enough for her to do so, however, as an eager Ruby was _very_ fast, and had retrieved everyone who Sibyl wanted in on this little 'meeting'.

Glynda, for the first time in a while, had a relieved look on her face. Jaune, Nora, and Ren were confused, yet happy, while Pyrrha herself had a wide smile. Yang idly wondered how long all those different expressions of relief and joy would last. She didn't think it would be long.

* * *

They had all been so happy to see him awake. Even Jaune, whose relationship could be described as… distant, at best, had been beyond relieved to see Sibyl was awake and _alive._ Well, as close to alive as he could get, anyways. It should have been heartwarming and pleasant. He wished that was what he had felt, but it wasn't.

Everyone around him was relieved beyond belief, but him? He was terrified. Terrified to look at any of them. Terrified that any second, all of them might _fade_ and he'd be left in the darkness alone. He could barely stare at a single one of them – well, that wasn't so much true for Nora, Ren, and Jaune. He could stare at them without much care, but if his eyes so much as flickered towards one of Glynda, Ruby, Pyrrha, Yang, Blake, _or_ Weiss, his body would stiffen and his breathing started to get heavier and heavier.

It was _so_ hard to look at them. He tried to do so, briefly, with Ruby-

 _He had beheaded her with one smooth slice, and the words, "Please, Sibyl! This isn't yo-" had been cut off about halfway through. His eyes refused to shut as blood flickered against them, staining his unblinking eyes and he could do little more but scream silently as he heard her head hit the ground with a squishing sound-_

Sibyl barely stopped himself from gasping, and he did that purely because he was not alone. His friends would have grown concerned or fearful for _him._ Him! He was the Chosen Undead, slayer of Gods, demons, and men alike. He was _not_ to show fear or other such emotions. He was above them.

He still wasn't sure if any of this was real, but it just… _felt_ so much more real. Each passing moment his fears of those around him would fade to darkness – or be torn apart by it – weakened more and more. It was only now he realized the sensations he had felt amidst the darkness weren't as real as he had thought.

The Undead decided to cut himself a littlebit of slack for that. His senses had been clouded and overwhelmed. It had been easy to overlook such things.

As Nora finished explaining how _happy_ she was to see him awake and alive, and that they should "totally go eat pancakes to celebrate", he offered her a broken smile before clearing his throat. Those around him took it as their cue to quiet down. He tried to stay calm as they all began waiting for him to speak. Eventually, he found the will to do so.

"…I am not who you think I am," the Undead admitted. It was an understatement – they knew nothing about him. Not his Undead curse, not his heritage being from another _world,_ nor his… character. He was a killer, and only Blake well and _truly_ realized that now.

"I have lied to all of you since they day I've arrived, one way or another," he added, staring at Glynda as he did so-

 _She was strong. She was so very strong, but he was stronger. A crystal soul spear slammed through her attempted defense. The only noise louder than the cracking of her sternum when the spell had slammed against her body was when her glasses finally hit the ground, shattering. They were sounds he'd never forget-_

"…I am not from the Badlands," he admitted. He was from some _bad lands,_ certainly, but not where they thought. "I am from so far away, we do not even share the same moon or stars," he added, and he saw Weiss huff lightly.

"That's impossible," she began to interrupt, but he was _tired_ of hearing that word. Going centuries into the past was supposed to be impossible, yet he had done that. Going to another _world_ was supposed to be impossible, yet here he was! Him making it as far as he had in his journey was supposed to be _damn near_ impossible, and he had done that, too. The world impossible only had meaning if one allowed it to, and to be frank, he was done giving it power.

"Do not tell me what is and _isn't_ possible, Weiss," he hissed, unaware the Abyss around his eye was glowing lightly. "Impossible, you say? Was sorcery not impossible until I taught you it? Was pyromancy not an impossibility until I brought it to this land!?"

The heiress was already trying to deny his words, and _damn it all,_ that pissed him off.

"Quiet! I am not from these lands… Don't you get it?! I am an impossibility; I will prove it!" He reached a hand around his neck, following an Abyssal vein which seemed as if it had been trying to reach around his neck and _to_ the storage sign of his humanity: his Darksign.

He shifted to an Undead near instantly, and outside of those who had already seen the transformation, everyone gasped. "W-What?" Glynda wondered aloud, squinting at him in closer scrutiny. He didn't bother changing back to his human masquerade. He wanted them to understand what he was. What a threat he was.

"This is what I _really_ am. A cursed being who one day will crack and become a Hollow. Little more than a frothing corpse willing to kill any and all whom come across me, former friends or not."

Those around stayed silent after his words, and he took a deep breath. "Given my relative strength, such a prospect has always left me fearful. Not for myself – no, I… sometimes, I long for it," he admitted, and he saw Yang open her mouth to protest or comfort, so he continued, "Doubly so since I've arrived here, keeping my curse a secret."

"Curse? What the hell do you mean by a _curse?"_ Yang uttered, and he didn't blame her. It was hard to explain, even after transforming back to his Undead form. Despite that, he would do his best to explain his fate. She deserved that much, at least.

"I am an Undead, Yang. A being unfit for both death and life." She didn't seem to believe him, so he laughed quietly. "The scars upon my body? They are from fights – fights I told you about, even, but they are not what you think." His hand unconsciously moved to where Ornstein had impaled him upon the stomach. "These scars? They are the final blow upon my body which _killed me._ All of them."

"N-No way," Jaune uttered, and Sibyl shook his head.

"Look at these scars. How would I have survived even just _this one,"_ he gestured to the most visible scar on his stomach, "much less all of them?"

Everyone was silent at his explanation, likely realizing how _true_ that was.

"I never wanted to come here. It was an accident," he admitted, feeling slightly bad about the expressions of those around him. He enjoyed it here – he really did – but it had never been his intention to _come_ here. He wouldn't have ever been able to even comprehend a world as incredible as this one.

"I awoke as the boy you see me as now. I don't remember a childhood, a family, _friends,_ or anything, prior to awakening in that damnable Asylum." He clenched his fists, staring at the sheets covering his lower body. He didn't need anything other than what Lordran had offered. If he had a family, they clearly hadn't really wanted him.

His friends? They must haven't been good ones if they allowed him to get shipped off to the Norther Undead Aslyum. Whatever life he had before Lordran? He didn't want it, and he didn't _care_ about it.

"Sibyl," Yang muttered, trying to inch closer to him in comfort. He shooed her back with his hand, and no, there certainly weren't tears in his eyes.

"I don't need such memories, Yang. I'm better without them – whoever abandoned me, good riddance to them! I never needed them, and I don't need them now. I don't need anything but _myself._ I am Sibyl of Lordran, the Chosen Undead, a Warrior of Sunlight! Everything I am, everything I became is thanks to Lordran. That land both gave me everything and _took_ it all back. Lordran birthed me _,_ not whatever despicable two beings decided to _abandon_ me to my Hollowing and death."

He took a deep breath. "It doesn't bother me, and it never will." That was the absolute truth. "I was not guided by people, or even family, really. I was guided by a prophecy, given by the man who freed me from my cell. He died shortly thereafter, but I like to think he lives through me, one way or another. For he imparted me with a purpose: his prior purpose.

" _Thou who art Undead, art chosen. In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum, maketh pilgrimage to the land of Ancient Lords. When thou ringeth the Bell of Awakening, the fate of the Undead, thou shalt know."_

He paused, chuckling lightly. "It… it never got much clearer from there…"

* * *

Sibyl had told them a lot, maybe even more than they deserved to know, but Blake knew it wasn't everything. Still, he had told them a lot. Things so otherworldly, so outlandish, so… _dark_ that Blake wanted to tell him he was insane. She _wanted_ him to be insane; she wanted everything he had said to be lies.

Yet, it was hard to imagine an insane liar coming up with a story which he could personally back up, via scars, magic, and weapons. It also helped explain a few things which previously, she had questioned.

" _When I made it to the end of the long bridge, I came across a girl," Sibyl explained, closing his eyes lightly and giving a sorrowful smile. "She was tall as a statue, with pale skin and a white gown of fur. She held a scythe which was just as large as the rest of her. And she asked me, kindly, to leave. She told me the painted world I had fallen into was meant for outcasts and abominations._

" _It had made no sense at the time, for she seemed perfect to me, like a modern angel. She was there due to being half-dragon. Scales showed on her neck and all over. She, since being a girl, had been trapped in a world with no company. No friends, and she had learned to care for the abominations which rested within. She saw herself as one, too…"_

While previously she'd spent a lot of time wondering why he had reacted so harshly to Cardin's bully of Velvet, _now_ it made perfect sense. It also made her respect for him grow even further, because as he had recalled the memory, he seemed so _angry_ that Priscilla, the half-dragon Faunus, saw herself as a freak while he saw an angel.

Trapped alone in a painted world, abandoned by her parents, whoever they might have been, because she was the only Faunus of her kind in his land. She shuddered just thinking about it… but it wasn't even the worst of his stories.

" _I didn't know at the time – how could I? But Quelaag wasn't there to protect the bell. She used it as a bait, killing and taking the humanity from whoever came to try and ring it. It seems cruel, yet I discovered her sick sister… a Fire Keeper, at that, who cared for those infected with the bug parasite which marked her as well. Quelaag was giving her humanity, to attempt and cure her sickness._

" _The worst part is, I held Quelaag's soul, and eventually came across a ring which allowed me to understand her sister. Her blind sister thought I was Quelaag. She told me I worked too hard, and that she loved me… because I had killed her sister. I never had the heart to tell her otherwise…"_

Yang and Ruby had both tensed at that moment, perhaps wondering if, in a similar situation, they would have trapped and killed people to heal the other. It was a tough question to answer, as well as an impossible one for Blake, so she didn't try. It wasn't her business; it was between the two sisters.

There was a story that had an effect on everyone, Blake found. Even Glynda had been stunned into silence when he talked about his late pyromancy teacher request that he go and kill what transformed demons remained of her sisters and brother. Still, while everyone was effected, Sibyl seemed to have been expecting… _more._

" _So, now you know," Sibyl concluded, meeting their gazes with only a slight flinch. "My journey. My… deeds. The list of sins I carry. You know the risk of my Hollowing, of the Abyss infection spreading until I lose my mind."_

 _They all remained silent for a few moments before Yang finally spoke up._

" _It doesn't matter," she declared, moving forward and plopping down right next to Sibyl. "So you're a bit… different. Really different – we all knew that already. You having some curse doesn't change anything."_

 _Blake agreed on that. They all agreed… except for Sibyl._

" _You don't get it. None of you do, and I fear by the time you do, it'll be too late, because I will have killed you."_

 _Glynda stepped forward, clearing her throat._ " _You're stronger than you think, Sibyl. I have faith you'll be able to contain the Abyss, as well as avoid Hollowing."_

 _He shook his head, gripping the sheets at his side._ " _None of you get it, but very well. If you don't understand, then I need a promise from all of you. Glynda already gave it, but I need all of you to do so." Blake nodded lightly, waiting for whatever Sibyl was going to ask of them. "If I lose myself, either to the Abyss or to Hollowing… you will kill me."_

 _Protests left mouths instantly, and Sibyl quieted them with a yell. "If I do not get this promise, I will leave!" No sound could be heard except Sibyl's harsh breathing. "I refuse to allow myself to tear any of you apart, and that will happen if you try to foolishly save me from my madness opposed to mercifully ending my life."_

 _Slowly, one by one, they all gave the promise… even if Blake doubted she'd ever be able to follow through with it._

" _Thank you. Your reactions… they haven't been what I expected. I would… I would like some time alone, and I think the rest of you should, too."_

They had all left after that, mostly by themselves but a few in groups. Ruby and Yang, at least, had gone together. It was fitting, as equally fitting as Glynda going off by herself to think. Blake had left by herself, too. She immediately had set off to Sibyl's room with the intent to go through his bottomless box.

He had claimed to have proof of damn near everything in the way of weapons and objects, not to mention his scars. She had wanted to _see_ that proof, see that Sibyl wasn't insane. If he _had_ the objects he claimed to, then it was valid thathe really was from another world. Damn near impossible, but she couldn't call him a liar. Not anymore, not after what she had seen and what he saved her from.

He had the helmet of his best friend, Solaire. It was what she had found him staring at a few times. He had the spear which he claimed pierced his stomach. When she had pulled it out, she realized that… yes, it would have been very painful to have pierce one's stomach. That was something of a given.

Next, she retrieved a broken pendant which felt so _wrong_ in her hand. She slowly allowed it to fall out of her hand and back into the chest. She watched as it disappeared into a _bottomless box. Sibyl's_ bottomless box. He wasn't lying, was he?

She needed to do something to help him. But how could she help him, when she couldn't even help herself?

* * *

Pyrrha stared at the moon above from the roof she and Jaune liked to train on. It was an especially clear night, yet she'd never felt more confused as she gazed the sky and stars. Sibyl claimed the place hewas from had a full moon. Not a shattered one, this only one she had ever known.

He also claimed to have _died_ more times than she wanted to count. When they had first retrieved him, and she had _seen_ the scars which populated his body more than his _skin_ , her first thought had been there was no way anyone could survive any of those, much less _all_ of them. It was almost relieving to know her senses weren't off. It wasn't relieving to know Sibyl really _had_ died so many times.

She didn't want to call him a liar, and she wasn't going to. Even if she thought it was outlandish, he deserved her belief in him. Besides… he had a _bottomless box_ in his dorm. He had introduced them all to the concept of _magic,_ and he had turned into a _corpse_ in front of her very eyes.

So, the redhead decided to believe him. With the belief in his words instilled, she didn't sleep very well that night. Her mind wouldn't stop imagining what it would feel like to be thrown off a fortress, impaled on a spear, and burnt alive by black flames.

* * *

Glynda was supposed to meet with Ozpin after speaking with Sibyl in more depth. Ozpin had been very curious on his condition, on what he could tell them about what had happened, and mostly, about what he might reveal about himself. _She_ had been more concerned about his well-being, of course, but that was natural. Sibyl was a dear friend of hers at this point, and she cared for him as much as she did damn near anyone she knew.

It was a good thing she did, because he certainly didn't care for himself. He was suicidal, _at_ _best._ Calling him guilt-ridden was an understatement, and to say he had suffered was akin to saying Qrow liked the occasional drink. Sibyl was a broken, _broken_ child, and that hurt her, because if he ever found out what Ozpin was holding back – what _she_ was holding back from him… he might finally crack.

She was really damn tempted to just _tell him_ what they had about Lordran, but after she had heard from him about that place? Sure, she had spoken to him about it before, but he had never been so… _honest_ about it. About the _pain_ and despair which perpetuated it, which had found him and taken what little joy he _did_ have. The land which had, slowly and one by one, taken and killed all of his friends. He wanted to _return_ there, and for what? To fulfill a prophecy he didn't even _believe_ in?

As his teacher, student, and _friend,_ she couldn't send him back there. It wasn't fair for anyone if he did, and so she wouldn't. As for Ozpin and his meeting…

She decided it could wait.

* * *

Yang wouldn't talk to her about it. Ruby sorta' understood why; Sibyl had laid a lot on them. A lot they weren't prepared for, and a lot of things Ruby didn't think it was possible _to_ be prepared for! She didn't even want to think about what he had told them, because it was so _bad_ and _painful._

She refused to think about it. Not then, and maybe not tomorrow. Maybe _never._ What she was going to do tonight was scoot closer to Yang on the bed they were sharing. Snatching her sister by the arm, she leaned closer into her, her breath steadying over time. Yang returned the contact, but did it half-heartedly.

Ruby sighed, closing her eyes and speaking words which were almost always at the front of her mind. "I miss Mom," she whispered, and her older sister nodded.

* * *

Weiss found herself sitting on the same bench she had been at when Sibyl had offered to teach her sorcery. It wasn't a terribly comfortable bench, but she couldn't think of a place better to go and _think_ at.

Her catalyst – no, Logan's catalyst – was in her lap. Sibyl deserved so much better than what he had been given. Slowly, she set the catalyst down next to her, blinking rapidly and reaching a hand up to wipe away her tears. Sibyl was just as prideful as her. He wouldn't want her tears, so she wouldn't give them.

Sibyl had said it himself. He was _proud_ to be from Lordran. It had shaped him, forged him, and sharpened him into what he was. And, while she was so terribly sorry for what he had gone through, she couldn't deny it had turned Sibyl into what he _was._ She very much enjoyed everything about the cursed boy, so she wouldn't pity him.

Perhaps she could do something else for him, though?

* * *

Fireball was _way_ stronger than Yang could have ever thought. He was stronger than _her,_ than her uncle, than god-damned _Ozpin._ He was the strongest person she knew, and with that came all the 'macho man' stuff which Sibyl perpetuated, even if he didn't realize it or mean to. She wanted to say it was just how he was raised, but he didn't _have_ anyone to raise him. No one he remembered, anyways.

No, according to him, what raised him was a damn abandoned land which _hated his guts,_ and the guts of everyone within it, too. Even the people who had _founded_ the damn thing. Hell, the land had _killed_ him more times than she cared to count, and he still had some sort of _respect_ for it _._

God, she still couldn't believe it. All those 'scars' she had told him about hadn't just left him gasping in pain. They had _actually_ killed him. Each and every one, from the big impalement on his stomach to the deep teeth marks along his chest. It made her so _upset_ , and she knew he was too prideful to cry. She could be the same way sometimes, but if there was anyone she could cry for, it was him.

Sibyl deserved her tears. Blinking a few times, Yang rested her head against Ruby's own, which laid in the crook of her neck. Weiss still hadn't come back, and neither had Blake. It was just her and her sister in their dorm. Ruby had fallen asleep some time ago, too, but that was fine. Yang was just happy to have her near.

…would she have killed people if it meant healing and keeping her sister from dying? Sibyl had sounded so _guilty_ for simply surviving the encounter, for just defending himself! And, as she glanced at her sleeping sister, Yang decided she would have felt guilty in his shoes, too.

She pulled Ruby closer, but she wouldn't be joining her sister in sleep anytime soon.


	12. Fractured and United

_**Long time no see. No real excuses to be had. I've been tired from work, and I've had a lack of inspiration to write, thus I haven't. I've also gotten away from writing for around 45 minutes at work everyday during break, which after doing for the past three days, I realize it was a big part of my productivity.**_

 _ **I apologize for that, and will try and make sure it doesn't happen again. In doing that, I am reducing the length of my average chapter. That's not to say I won't have my longer chapters from the length of 9000-12000 words, but rather that I'm going to begin allow chapter length to be a bit more organic and not as rigid as I have made it in the past. I'd expect most of my newer chapters to be 7000-9000 words, though this is around 6700 due to me just wanting to**_ _ **put something out.**_

 _ **In other news, I've been having a good bit of inspiration for another story. I'm hesitant to start it because I'm afraid I might get too drawn into**_ _ **it and slack on this one, but given that I just went about a month without touching this story, it may be an issue of the inspirations I have for that fic affecting my ability to write this. I won't be starting more than one other story, though, if I decide to do so. I don't have enough time to be one of those authors who juggle six different stories.**_

 _ **Thanks for everyone who reviewed and followed. Especially those who reviewed; you had me feeling so bad I hadn't updated that it finally allowed me to plow through this chapter! More and more elements are getting introduced, and I'm doing so quickly and intentionally. When it rains, it pours, as they say. I want the second arc of my story to be somewhat in contrast with the first, in terms of things just happening more quickly. Characters have been built, relationships established between characters, yadda yadda, so there's less "filler" to tie down everything, though there still will be that when I finally reach romance.**_

 _ **Yes, this story will have romance. I've always planned it from the beginning, but these things take time and I wanted to take the arc for: strangers-friends-subconscious interest-relationship. Anyways, enough babbling to artificially increase word length: please enjoy! Edit: Beta'd at last.**_

* * *

"I do not understand this game," Sibyl grumbled to himself in a whisper as he stood behind Weiss, squinting at the cards she held and currently trying to figure out what the hell they _did._ He missed the times when things made _sense,_ back when there were demons and gods to kill whom he just went and _killed._

The Schnee Heiress nodded in agreement, just as puzzled with what was going on as he was, opening her mouth to whisper back-

"Yang Xiao Long, prepare your kingdom for battle!" Ruby declared, interrupting whatever Weiss had planned to say and standing from her seat while pointing forward in triumph. Her blonde sister smirked in triumph, smacking the table with her fist. They were certainly related...

"Bring it on, Sis!"

"I deploy the Atlesian Air Fleet." Yang gasped, leaning back in her chair visibly at Ruby's declaration, "That means I get to fly _right_ over your Ursai and attack your walls directly!"

Sibyl nodded at the words, though he still wasn't sure what they did. From what he had gathered, 'Ursai' were ground-based units, and naturally, something which could fly would be able to go over them. He believed they were portrayed by the miniature statues on the board, though again, which ones were which was beyond him.

"…do you know what that means?" Weiss whispered back to him without looking away from her cards. He hummed.

"Not really."

"-activated my trap card!" Yang declared, turning the card snagged between her fingers forward. Sibyl felt his eyes get drawn to it as his blonde student continued to speak, "Giant Nevermore! If I roll a seven or higher, Fatal Feathers will slice your fleet into pieces!"

" _But,_ " Ruby interrupted, pointing cheekily across the table, "if you roll a six or lower, the Nevermore will turn on your own troops!"

Sibyl slowly tuned out as the two sisters babbled on, glancing behind his back as he felt eyes linger for a bit too long. Pyrrha froze when he met her eyes, but smiled tentatively and gestured him over. He rolled his shoulder, doing so and dismissing himself without a word.

He took a seat next to Pyrrha, with Jaune and Ren shooting him stares. Nora snoozed happily across the book she was supposed to be reading;he withheld a snort of amusement at the sight. Adjusting his seat to be more comfortable, he turned and gestured for Pyrrha to begin. She clearly wanted to speak but was feeling a bit too shy to do so. Understandable.

She turned her gaze to the table, making circles with her fingers before taking a deep breath. "I'd like to spar in the future. You're… well, you're very good, and… everyone else here, they're…"

He chuckled softly, running a hand through his own hair. "They are skilled too, Pyrrha. You are simply like me: better. I'd be more than happy to entertain you for a few duels. I'll speak with Glynda and ask to be matched," he informed, and Pyrrha smiled happily while Jaune frowned a bit unhappily in his seat.

The undead ignored whatever grievances caused such an expression, instead standing with a stretch. "But it cannot be today, or even soon. I… I am going on a trip, though do not tell the others about it. I fear Yang will beat me _back_ into the hospital if she finds out."

Mouth open to speak, the redhead thought better of it at the last moment, snapping her jaws shut and nodding silently. He gave her a brief thanks before glancing back at the game he'd excused himself from. Weiss was cackling madly as she stood in front of the board. Apparently, Yang and Ruby had infected the 'most normal' of his friends.

Sighing, the Chosen Undead took that as his chance to finally leave – only to bump into Sun when he finally left through the entrance of the library. He blinked. Sun blinked.

Just as suddenly, the two clapped arms and Sibyl pulled the Faunus in for a close hug. "Brother! It's a pleasure to see you well!" Sibyl greeted, unable to keep the broad smirk off his face.

"Hey, you too, big guy!"

Releasing his friend, the undead quickly dug through his outfit until he found a stitched in sleeve, reaching in and pulling out a letter. He had written it a few days ago, intent on explaining to Sun everything he had explained to the others, without having to do so verbally. It was a bit impersonal, unfortunately, but his tale was a very long and exhausting one. He didn't have the energy to speak it again.

Giving it to the monkey Faunus, he quickly began to explain upon seeing the confused expression. "Read that, friend. I ask you do so privately, and when you are done, you may come find me… in a few weeks, when I have returned."

Sun began to speak in protest, stopping only when Sibyl raised his hand and quickly motioned for silence. "I will be safe. I'm going with one of the professors. Do not tell the others, at least until I'm gone. The letter, it will… explain some things. A lot of things, really."

Sun nodded, placing the letter in his pocket carefully.

He gestured behind his back, and Sibyl only just now realized there was some blue-haired kid with him. "This is Neptune, a good friend of mine."

Sibyl greeted him with a firm handshake – any friend of Sun was a friend of his, after all.

"Well, don't let us keep you," the blonde declared, walking forward but grabbing Sibyl on his shoulder and leaning close to whisper. "And I'm real glad to see you're alright, man. Gave me a real scare."

Sibyl laughed, clapping the Faunus on the chest with an open palm.

"Thank you for the concern. Stay well, and stay alive."

* * *

' _To whom it may concern,_

 _I have left with Professor Peter on a journey towards the edge of a far village. I will both assist in an investigation and capture of different species of Grimm. We shall return in due time, anywhere from a week to three. Yang, I expect mastery of the Fireball cast by then. Weiss and Glynda, I have no suggestions for your next spell; you may go through my scrolls and decide yourself._

 _Best regards, Sibyl.'_

He stared at the note, biting his lip. It was a bit… brief, but things between himself and his friends had been rather tense lately. He wasn't sure what to add, truthfully. His friends… their actions might have made him smile if he weren't so _scared_ for them. They continued to treat him the exact same way as before things had been revealed, perhaps in some veil of comfort.

They insisted he wasn't any different. Neither the Abyss nor Hollowing would overpower him; he was strong enough with resolve to spare. It was a foolish thought, one most undead had at the beginning of their journeys. And, like all undead, their journey ended in themselves Hollowing. It was a big enough fear he had even _before_ his Abyssal infection.

Combined, he knew either one of the two would end him. But his friends, they didn't get it, and they never would. Only Blake perhaps had a realidea on what it looked like when he lost control.

"Ready, Sibyl, my boy?" Peter questioned him, and it was enough to finally tear his eyes from the note with a nod. A grimace overtook his heavily covered face. He had taken to wearing the same armored dark leather Patches favored, the mask and hood doing a good enough job to obscure his more… unsightly features. His infected eye remained wrapped, but anyone who was awareof his infection could see and make sense of the thin vein of Abyss which creeped towards the bridge of his nose.

It was the most visible, but far from the single most dangerous vein of darkness which was trying to corrupt him.

 _He stared in the mirror, looking at his blackened, disgusting face. Slowly, one finger rose and followed a vein of Abyss which wrapped around his neck. It stopped only a few inches from his Dark Sign; a dangerous prospect indeed._

If that thin line ever reached his Dark Sign, the storage place of his humanity… Well, suffice to say he would be too busy screaming in insanity and pain to even _think_ about what was happening. It was no wonder the Abyss was drawn to it.

"Excellent! C'mon then, we've Grimm to slay and rumors to investigate!"

The request he had put into Peter which seemed like _so_ long ago had finally come through. The older hunter was going to take him to fight and see many different species of Grimm. It was how Sibyl learned best; the classes here only offered so much for his more… practical mind.

Sibyl adjusted the weapon in his hand: the Titanite Catch Pole, only ever used by the great Titanite Demons who inhabited all across Lordran. Well, only ever used by them until _he_ found it. It had been very large and unwieldy until he took it to Andre, having the weapon melted and reforged into something a bit smaller. It still had great reach, but not so much it would hit the damn ceiling of Anor Londo every time he swung it. He figured it would do well in this situation. While more than capable of killing beings and beasts – _very_ capable–the head of the weapon might allow him to catch a beast's ankles and send it tripping, or if the neck was thin enough, catch it there and pin it down.

Peter had approved of his logic, giving him a nice slap on the back and a rumbustious laugh when he first showed it off.

As they shut the door, Sibyl used his weapon as a walking stick while Peter led the way. "I'm glad you decided to join me, Sibyl," Peter began, voice oddly serious. "It's been quite some time since I've had company on trips like these, and a hunt is always better with friends!" The man paused, giving Sibyl a sideways glance for a few moments.

"And I've noticed you've been different as of late," he admitted, and upon seeing Sibyl's forehead _twitch,_ laughed jollily. "I'm sure this trip will knock you out of whatever funk you've found yourself in! Why, when I was a younger lad, me and my father took…"

Sibyl allowed himself to relax as he listened to Peter's tale, and eventually, the two found themselves in a dropship and left Beacon behind… only just missing the arrival of an Atlas fleet, one General Ironwood, and a kind guest.

* * *

If she paid more attention to the slight, almost unnoticeable reflection of the glass in front of her, she would have seen her own eye twitching. Glynda wasn't fond of surprises, and _this_ was certainly a surprise. What wasn't a surprise was _who_ had brought this surprise with him. It was _never_ a surprise on one so flashy and boisterous.

"Why does he always have to do this?" Glynda muttered, staring out the window at the multitude of Atlas flagships which were now parked all over Vale and Beacon. He had been like this since she first met him, all those years ago. It was like he'd never grown out of being a _child,_ constantly showing off his fancy toys to boast to the other kids about how _great_ he was.

"They _are_ a bit of an eyesore," Ozpin observed, and Glynda rolled her eyes.

"Something of an understatement, _Ozpin._ I don't understand why Ironwood must _always_ bring his work when he travels."

The headmaster hummed in agreement, as it was an agreed upon grievance they both had with James, but before he could say anything more, the Scroll on his desk flashed. He sighed softly, giving Glynda a brief glance before clearing his throat.

"Come in," he called, turning away from the window and towards the elevator at the other end of the room.

And in walked the man who was responsible for their peaceful city suddenly looking _not_ so peaceful _._ General James Ironwood, an old friend, and currently, a _great annoyance._ She had been dealing with _far_ too much lately to deal with _him_ and his shows of power.

Men, the lot of them!

"Ozpin!" James greeted from across the room.

"Hello, General," was the curt reply Ozpin sent his way. Glynda didn't move from her position by the window – at least, not yet. She had no desire to bring attention to herself and Ironwood's infatuation.

"Please, drop the formalities! We're all friends here." James paused, turning his gaze towards Glynda. "Even if it's been too long since we last met," he added.

The blonde teacher slowly moved towards the center of the room. She stared at James for a few moments before turning to Ozpin. "I'll be outside," she began, only to _freeze_ when James laid a hand on her shoulder. She narrowed her eyes, and James slowly removed his hand with a sheepish smile which quickly faded.

"I'd prefer you to stay, Glynda. This is important," he mentioned seriously, and begrudgingly, Glynda strengthened her resolve enough that she'd actually _stay._ That didn't mean she had an over-abundance of _patience_ for his antics, however _._

"Then quit posturing and _tell us,"_ she insisted, taking a step back and crossing her arms.

James gestured to the desk behind them, and slowly, the three moved. He waited for Ozpin to take a seat and Glynda to get comfortable before clearing his throat.

"We can win this war," he informed, standing up taller wand with a cleaner posture. "And it'll be on the back of my new friend: Dusk."

Glynda blinked, for once ignoring the smug look on James's face at her dumbfounded expression. The odds were low, but not _that_ low. In fact, she wouldn't have questioned the name if she hadn't heard an incredible tale from one of her closest friends and students who explicitly mentioned a 'Princess Dusk' as the exact _reason_ he had ended up in Remnant. If it was the same Dusk, she owed it to Sibyl to find out.

"James, she wouldn't happen to come from an Oolacile, would she?"

The Atlas General opened his mouth, only to pause. "What?"

Glynda narrowed her eyes, leaning forward and _growling._ _"_ _Is. She. From. Oolacile?!"_

James took a step back, raising his hands in surrender.

"Yes. H-How did you know? How do you even _know_ about Oolacile?!"

Glynda cursed, and _both_ men stared at her in confusion and curiosity. She slowly raised a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath from her nose to clear the frustration. "Sit down, James. It seems we _do_ have a lot to discuss."

* * *

Yang was resisting the urge to punch something; still, which despite what people seemed to think, didn'thappen all that often. She was pretty carefree, but some things managed to push her buttons _just_ right and get her simmering with anger. And… well, when she'd gone to Sibyl's dorm and come across that _stupid note_ two weeks ago _,_ she'd only just stopped herself from smashing the desk which it was laying on. The anger she had felt at that moment had faded much over two weeks.

She couldn't believe it. He'd only checked out of that stupid hospital room for _a_ _week_ before he left _._ One week out of the hospital and he had already left them again! Did he not care about his well-being at _all?_ Did he not care he'd be worrying all of them by just _leaving?!_ Everything had gone to hell lately, and Yang wasn't sure how to fix it.

Sibyl was clearly damaged, and she only just now realized there was a good reason for him being how he _was_ beyond him just being awkward. Still, it hurt that he didn't seem to trust them. He hadn't even _told_ themhe was leaving. It went beyond that, too, because he'd been avoiding them and had been so… _tense_ around them.

They'd all got together and talked about it, too, promising to treat Sibyl just like they had all treated him before he explained everything he was, where he came from, and all of that. She meant it, too. Sibyl had an interesting past, a weird curse, but he was still _Sibyl,_ her teacher and her friend. The problem was, he didn't seem _happy_ about being treated the same!

It didn't make any sense. What, did he want them to walk around on eggshells around him or constantly shoot him suspicious looks? She trusted _him_ to not go crazy and kill them. He didn't seem to have the same trust.

Yang sighed, closing her eyes and running a hand through her hair. Well, whatever Fireball wanted, it didn't matter, because the moment he got back she was going to beat it into him he had friendswho _cared_ , and he shouldn't just hang them out to dry to go hunting with Professor Port, of all people!

"Excuse me," a voice suddenly spoke, and Yang nearly flinched, her eyes fluttering back open. The sight of a pretty woman greeted her. She was very… _fair_ looking, almost like royalty. Yang blinked when she continued to speak. "I find myself quite lost. General Ironwood graciously allowed me to explore on my lonesome, though perhaps such was not as great an idea as it seemed," she murmured, and Yang chuckled good naturedly.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'll show you around, no problem! Name's Yang," she introduced, unable to stop from biting her own lip. The woman in front of her seemed _so_ familiar, but she couldn't quite place from where.

"Thank you, dearest Yang. I am Dusk, formerly of… well, I suppose it doesn't matter much anymore, does it?" The woman muttered, sighing softly.

Well, that was a weird way to introduce yourself, but Yang was used to dealing with Sibyl, so it was whatever. Something about that name was awfully familiar, though. What was it? As she racked her brain for the answer, she gestured for Dusk to follow along and began pointing out things without much conscious thought.

Dusk listened without interrupting for a while, though she would occasionally see something and pause. The next time she did so, the blonde had paused, turning to stare. "Are you okay?" She asked, and the woman cleared her throat, shaking her head and laughing silently.

"Forgive me. I am simply lost in memories of my old home." Not sure how to continue – she'd had enough talking about people's old homes for _two lifetimes_ – she nevertheless felt the need to interject.

"Want to talk about it?" She mumbled, not entirely comfortable with the words leaving her mouth.

"There is little to talk about, I'm afraid. My home is destroyed; its people dead and buildings crumbled in ruin. My dear Oolacile…"

Yang nearly tripped and sputtered when Dusk named _that_ place. And, suddenly, it all made sense.

Dusk was the princess Sibyl had been instructed to save when he returned to the past and Oolacile. Duskwas the reason Sibyl was even _here_. Dusk was the only connection to Lordran and everywhere else outside of Sibyl in this _whole land_.

Instead of screaming in triumph, she swallowed a lump in her throat, speaking much more eloquently to the woman who had revealed herself to be, inadvertently, from a different world.

" _What?!"_

Dusk paused, turning to stare at her with a curious expression.

"You're…" Yang muttered, "You're Dusk! The princess Sibyl went and saved against that stupid Manus?!"

The woman's eyes widened before an expression of _sheer joy_ overtook her. "Sibyl? I'd thought perhaps it was Artorias who saved me, but… no, I remember his scent quite clearly." The woman sighed softly, holding a hand to her chest as her smile _somehow_ stretched wider. "Oh, my savior is alive! I'd feared the worst. Sibyl, is he still here?"

Yang shook her head in the negative. "No, but he is alive. He's on some trip with one of the professors right now."

As Dusk's face fell forlorn, Yang held her breath and tried to decide on what to do. The idea someone like Sibyl was here was something she'd never even considered possible. But, well, so was the idea of Sibyl coming from another world. Yang decided Dusk could help them with Sibyl just as much as they could help her get caught up in events, so she spoke.

"Hey, why don't you come with me? We'll explain things, and maybe you can help with Sibyl?"

Dusk looked quite pleased at that. "Whatever I can do to help my savior must be done," she informed, not hesitating to follow behind Yang happily.

The blonde's day had just got a lot more confusing.

* * *

Sibyl stepped back and twisted his weapon, the end of the catch pole snagging around the Ursa's ankle and sending it crashing to the ground. He quickly pulled his weapon back closer to him before leaping forward, bringing the sharp end down upon the beast's neck and beheading it in one quick motion.

Taking a step back, he admired his work. Peter quickly clapped him on the shoulder, laughing jovially. "Excellent work! It seems all those stories you've shared weren't exaggerated in the bit." The older professor hummed, taking a glance around the forest.

Sibyl wasn't much worried about any of that, though. No, he needed only to see another group of Grimm to confirm his suspicions. As luck would have it, a Beowolf leapt from the surroundings and began to attack Peter. The undead was careful not to stare at it, instead looking slightly above or around it for several moments before _finally_ he allowed his eyes to draw down, meeting the gaze of the beast.

Like clockwork, it turned, ignoring Peter and rushing at him in a frenzy of hate. As it lunged at him with a claw outstretched, he ducked aside, bringing his polearm up at the same time and cutting across the stomach of the beast, before twirling it and bringing it down upon the back of its head. It died very quickly, but Sibyl was more concerned about something else.

It wasn't just a trick, then. Whenever he stared at one of the beasts, they grew enraged and just _rushed at him._ He sighed softly, adjusting his weapon and rubbing at the back of his head in confusion. It didn't make much sense, but he supposed it was possible the creatures considered him a larger threat. Why could his life never be simple?

"Hmm. It seems these Grimm have something of a vendetta against you. Then again, it might be they see you as younger, easier prey – and how wrong they would be!" Peter quickly added, chuckling softly. "Still, we've yet to find the beast I seek to capture. I'm sure it'll come in time," he finished.

The undead had stayed quiet up until now, but he was beginning to lose his patience, much fun as he was having in the slaying of these Grimm. "And which Grimm is that, Peter? We have slew every Grimm we've come across, not captured them." It was getting rather confusing, doubly so when he'd been under the impression capture was what they were _out here for._ He understood there was no need to capture _every_ single one, but still, at this point, they should have captured _one_ of them!

Peter cleared his throat, turning to look at his younger compatriot. "We are not out here to capture any run-of-the-mill Grimm! No, I've been hearing rumors of a great white beast, one which had both terrified the Grimm _and_ locals. Spottings have been sparse, but hopefully we'll come across it soon enough."

Sibyl nodded in acknowledgement, but who knew how long it would take to find such a thing! Especially if rumors about it were so scarce. What, were they expecting it to just lunge out of the woods like the rest of them? If it was such a mighty beast, it likely had a territory – they needed to encroach on the territory before-

He had barely turned around to breathe before something had pounced atop him, pinning him to the ground while Peter shouted a late warning. Sibyl had been in a similar position enough times to know he was about to die, so he closed his eye, sighed, and waited. And waited…

Eventually, he opened good eye to a peculiar sight. A ferocious white wolf, face inches apart from his own. Normally, he'd expect to have his nose bitten off and face torn asunder. Except, as opposed to having those things happen, the wolf howled happily, and he felt its _tongue beating against his face._

His eyes were forced closed, but when they reopened, something _clicked_ and the sight made him gasp. It was _Sif_ whom had pinned him to the ground. The great wolf had grown from the large pup he knew, and as it stepped back and off him with a loud howl, he laughed.

Then he saw Peter prepared to attack _Sif a_ nd screamed. "Stop! Stop, Peter! This is a friend – a dear companion!"

The older Professor stilled, his weapon held high and ready to strike. Slowly, it was lowered to his side, and Sif lost his tense posture.

Sibyl smiled, approaching Artorias's old companion. "Sif, it is a pleasure to see you again. I only regret you were dragged here thanks to my mistake." And truly, he meant those words. Sif didn't serve to be dragged here due to his mistakes. He hadn't even considered the effects a homeward bone would have on Dusk, much less the fading phantom form of his companion.

The wolf, though, didn't seem to mind. He approached slowly, putting his head beneath Sibyl's palm. Petting him happily, Sibyl decided things could be worse. After all, opposed to Sif, Manus could have been dragged along. Why, even worse, _Chester!_ That would have been a nightmare…

"…I'm lost," Peter murmured, and the chosen undead wasted no time gesturing him forward.

"Peter! This is Sif, the great wolf companion of Artorias. He helped me in the battle which ended me here; I dare say I would have lost and died without him."

Sif removed himself from Sibyl's side, instead walking over to Peter – and _right past_ the older hunter. The wolf moved and picked up a sword which had been plucked into the ground, flicking his head so the blade fit into his mouth more properly.

"…Sif wields a sword?" His companion muttered, and Sibyl laughed at the dumbfounded tone.

"Yes, and he's quite good with it." Sibyl felt himself losing the mirth which had bubbled up inside him, instead staring at Sif. "…how long have you been out here, my dear friend?"

The wolf stared at the ground, whining softly.

"Well, no matter. I have found you, and I intend to repay you for your assistance."

Sif rushed at him in a dash, slicing with his blade – but Sibyl didn't move nor flinch. The cut was precise, and Sibyl said nothing as his eye patch was cut and fluttered to the ground, his eye revealed to all.

Peter gasped, but he paid it no mind. Sif was just staring at him, eyes narrowed in accusation.

"Ah, yes. The Abyss has left a mark on me, I'm afraid."

And that was a shame, indeed. Sif approached, the wolf's gaze not wandering from his own. Sif slammed his blade into the dirt, growling softly. The undead sighed, plopping down onto his bottom and onto the dirt. "Yes, yes, I know. I… I would not blame you if you struck me down now, before I am left like your former master."

Perhaps it would be better for all of them… But no, Sif decided that was not his fate today.

The wolf turned his eyes to the sky, howling a promise the two of them couldn't hope to understand. Neither himself nor the Professor moved, until Sif laid down next to him, and even still, Sibyl didn't dare to move. Peter did, however, scratching his chin and clearing his throat.

"I'm a bit lost on the details, but it seems we've found what…" Sif growled, one eye snapping to stare at Peter. "… _w-who_ I was looking for. We ought to head back to Beacon, I think. And perhaps you can fill me in on some details, dear boy?"

Sibyl nodded, rising back to his feet as Sif did the same. His burden felt a little bit lighter, just by virtue of someone truly familiar being here with him. Perhaps things were looking up?

* * *

"…so, you're Dusk?" Weiss muttered, staring at the regal woman in front of her. And, yes, the woman _did_ look like royalty. Pale skin, a nice complexion, and sharp yet soft features. Dusk nodded, bowing deeply. A bit odd, considering she was a princess and should be the one getting _bowed_ to, but Sibyl had mentioned how humble and kind she was.

"Yes. It is a pleasure to meet thee, Weiss. I thank thou for helping watch after my savior." She paused, smile fading just a bit. "He was… _is_ quite reckless, from the tales he regaled me with in between the time I was teaching him," she added, and Weiss nodded in agreement. It certainly fit the boy.

Watching after Sibyl was a pleasure, and nothing to be thanked for. She only wished she could've done more, to be honest. She _could_ do more, still. Weiss didn't say anything as she settled down onto her bed, waiting for Yang to gather up the rest of everyone.

But something she said…

"Wait, wait, wait. _You're_ Sibyl's teacher?!" Weiss nearly made a stupidly shocked face, and only the princess's royal manners in front of her inspired her not to do so. "You… you can do sorcery? Or pyromancy?"

Lightly smiling, Dusk answered, "The former. My sorceries… came from my royal family and retainers' research, though they were but approximations, compared to Sibyl's more… say, _modern_ style, which is more direct. This difference has always fascinated me, along with Sibyl himself."

Apart from the surprise _this_ woman was perhaps even more skilled than Sibyl in sorcery, Weiss didn't fail to catch the endearing tone Dusk used whenever she addressed Sibyl. Perhaps… they were…?

Shaking her head mentally, she berated herself for prodding her mind to places it didn't belong. That matter was _their_ discretion alone, and whether her suspicions were true or not, she should ask this only towards Sibyl, because she's not coarse enough to flat-out interrogate Dusk to her face like Yang.

Oblivious to Weiss's thoughts, Dusk continued, "His pyromancy teacher… or _teachers_ , I should say, came from a different land to mine own. I have never met them, but from his words, they were… _fascinating_ people. One of them was even of a divine descent!" Her eyes sparkled in wonder, clearly in awe of said pyromancy teacher.

However, her jubilant mood spiked downwards almost instantly, catching Weiss off-guard.

"Sibyl…is he well?" Dusk asked, eyes drifting to stare at the ground.

Weiss bit her lip, unsure how to respond. Not so much so on how to answer, but more how to interact with the woman across from her. It was… odd, knowing that someone was from some place so very different. That someone was so very… _alone._

She briefly wondered how she would have treated Sibyl if she'd known he was in a similar situation from the beginning. Still, she knew how she'd treat him now. Not the same, certainly, because that would be a lie, but similar enough to it.

Sibyl did not need pity, and, for all intents and purposes, he was as fine as he could be. So that was what she'd say, and nothing more. Sibyl was strong.

"He's doing as well as he can, given the circumstances." She paused, considering the boy for a few extra seconds. "He's strong. Very strong."

Dusk nodded, eyes glossing over a bit as she got lost in her own thoughts. It stayed in that moment for a few moments, before she spoke again. "Such resolve, perseverance… it is the mark of greatness."

Weiss laughed lightly at that, though it faded as she considered the situation of the woman in front of her. She had made the mistake of never asking before, but she could do better now. She always had to do better. "…how are _you_?"

Dusk frowned, staring at her palms. Slowly, her eyes rose to meet Weiss's. "My people are dead, and Elizabeth no doubt is left wondering where I am. I feared to truly be alone in these odd lands. To realize my savior is alive… I can be strong again, just as he is."

Weiss said nothing more, instead taking a deep breath as the handle to their dorm jiggled, and in walked Ruby, Yang, _and_ Blake. Pyrrha wasn't anywhere to be seen, and Yang shrugged when Weiss rose her brow in question.

"I couldn't find P-Money, and without her being near, having Ren, Nora, or even Jaune is sorta' awkward, so…"

The Schnee heiress nodded in agreement, knowing Pyrrha was the one Sibyl was most connected with out of Team JNPR.

Dusk stood, greeting those who had just entered the dorm with a bow. "It is a pleasure to meet all of you. I am Dusk of Oolacile."

Weiss was watching the interaction with some interest, but her eyes quickly skipped over to Ruby. Her partner was staring at her, practically vibrating where she stood. Her eyes were pleading for something, but… what? Weiss rose her brow, and Ruby mouthed the word 'hug' _._

Palming her face, Weiss nonetheless gestured for Ruby to do whatever the hell she wanted. The girl _squealed,_ rushing forward and grabbing Dusk in a gigantic hug, squeezing fiercely. The princess let out an undignified squawk, but Ruby was already talking, and when her partner started talking, it was practically impossible to get her to stop.

"Oh, my God! I can't believe one of Sibyl's friends is here! Are you okay? I know your people are all, uh… _gone_ and everything, but Sibyl's here, and so are you! And us, yeah. We're here too, and just like with Sibyl, we'll make sure you don't have to deal with being in a new world all by yourself! I'm Ruby!"

Dusk slowly snuck out of Ruby's grip, and a bubbly laugh worked its way out of her throat. "It is a pleasure," she managed to say, calming her own laughter.

Ruby blinked, suddenly remembering she had forgot to introduce _anyone else._ "Oh, and this is Blake and Yang!" Ruby gestured lavishly, stepping aside before pausing. "Though, I guess you already met Yang."

Weiss sighed softly, rolling her eyes. Ruby was _such_ a child.

"Indeed, I have." The princess of a destroyed kingdom smiled softly, her gaze scanning all of them for a few moments. "I am glad my savior has found such wondrous companions. He deserves such, especially after the fate of those he once held dear. Thank you."

Weiss shifted uncomfortably at the statement, and was beyond glad when Yang decided to take control of the conversation.

"Nah, _we're_ lucky to have him. And we'd like to show him that, but… well, he's a weird guy. Maybe you can help us figure him out?"

Dusk nodded, stepping aside to allow the room to become better spaced out.

"Please, ask whatever questions you may have."

* * *

Sibyl blinked, because the woman in front of him was someone he'd never thought he'd see again, much less being the first one he'd see the _moment_ he stepped off the dropship himself and Peter had left on a few weeks ago. "Dusk?" He whispered, inching forward and fighting his own disbelief.

"Oh, Sibyl. It is great to see thou once more!" Dusk practically _squealed_ , in an eerily similar manner to an excited Ruby,and Sibyl didn't care for the first time in a long time. He rushed forward, grabbing the princess and hugging her closely. She was alive! Her body hadn't been ripped apart by his foolishness, nor had she been banished to some _terrible_ place!

"By the gods above, Dusk. I feared my actions had killed you – or even worse," he mumbled, unable to stop the pricking of his own tears.

The princess returned his hug tightly, holding it for a good while before eventually removing herself from him with a wide smile. "And I had feared for your life, as well. But, to see you here, with friends… it warms my heart," she informed, and he laughed.

"How long have you been here?"

She hummed at his question, closing her eyes as she thought. "A rather long time, though I only arrived here at this school three days ago. I met thine friends and answered the questions they had. They are all kind."

Sif, who had been hanging back, finally moved forward, coming to stand before Dusk without much emotion. Dusk stiffened when she noticed, and the princess wasted no time bowing deeply to the wolf. "I am sorry for the trouble I caused you and your master, dearest Sif."

The wolf said nothing, but eventually stepped aside, walking off to _somewhere._

Sibyl bit his own lip. It was only natural the wolf wasn't terribly happy with Dusk, given her circumstances was what had led to Artorias's death, however inadvertently.

"…I suppose I deserve such brisk treatment," Dusk mumbled, barely stopping herself from tearing up to keep a dignified front.

"Sif… Sif is in mourning. In time, he will realize you are no more to blame than I," Sibyl assured, the words sounding more hollow than he wanted.

Instead of dwelling on this, he pushed for a new subject. "Regardless, this is great news. With your return and discovery, I will finally have someone who can help my return to Lordran."

Dusk paused mid-step, turning to stare at Sibyl as if he had grown two heads. "My savior… I am indebted to you, very much so. And it is for that very reason I will _never_ return you to Lordran."

" _WHAT?"_

Dusk flinched at his loud voice, and stood up a bit straighter, turning to stare at him. "The world we both come from is one of pain and suffering. Thou has already told me of your friends, and I do not wish for you to reach a similar breaking point. You have _friends_ here, Sibyl, and they are alive and well. _You_ are alive and well, and together, with our combined knowledge, we might be able to help this entire world!"

Sibyl shook his head, turning away from Dusk with a growl. She didn't get it-

"I _do_ understand, Sibyl! It is thou who is blinded by guilt and duty! Pyromancy and sorcery can save these lands – we _cannot_ save Lordran!"

He would not listen to any more of this nonsense. "I am _very_ glad you are alive, Dusk. We will speak more later," he declared, setting off at a quick pace after Sif, who stood at the far side of the clearing. Resisting the urge to shout was difficult, but he managed.

* * *

"So, Adam's dead, huh?" Roman Torchwick, the infamous criminal mastermind known all throughout Vale, mumbled aloud to himself. It wasn't that he _cared_ the Faunus was dead. He definitely had never liked the bastard on a personal level, so learning he was dead was a relief. He wouldn't have to deal with him, and his fanaticism, ever again.

His death had little effect on their plans at this point, either, so it wasn't like Cinder was going to be all pissed off about everything. Hell, Chester, the weird, sadist guy that he was had even given Roman the rundown on what Adam had been doing on his lonesome.

Roman Torchwick was a lot of things, but he wasn't someone who would _ever_ condone what the hell that bastard had done. If he could find the idiot's grave, he'd dance atop of it and piss on the headstone. So, no, it wasn't Adam's death which had him up in wonders. It was the kid who had caused it: Sibyl.

Him and Chester apparently had history, and Cinder's masked love-toy had never been too shy about admitting the _undead_ had beaten him before in combat. Chester was good. _Really_ good, probably better than even Adam had ever been. Roman relied on things more than his own brawn – mostly his brain – and he had no doubt that Cinder, Adam, and Chester would all be able to kick his ass. Hell, Mercury might be able to, too.

This Sibyl kid would definitely be able to wreck him halfway across the continent if they were in a one-on-one fight. Hell, he'd beaten Adam after he'd been tortured 'til a few inches from _death._ Roman wasn't going to do anything to piss him off… personally.

Their plan was bound to piss the kid off, but Chester made it sound like they had plans to get him out of the way at some point, one way or another.

It was all well and good… for Cinder and her plan. Roman never had much fondness for taking orders, and whatever was going to happen, he knew it wasn't going to be good for his continued underground empire.

There had to be a society to steal from and undermine for him to exist, after all. As he sat in a lounge of one of their safe-houses, he wasn't really thinking about how Adam's death had affected their plans, because it _hadn't._ Chester wouldn't have shot a bolt through his head otherwise.

His thoughts were on a much more compelling question.

Was Sibyl strong enough to kill Cinder?


	13. Far Places, Same Faces

**_Going to move author's note to the bottom. Enjoy! Also, the previous chapter has now been beta'd and edited. This one has now been beta'd as well._**

* * *

Sibyl had returned from his trip with Peter, a Grimm capture mission which only Yang had protested him going on after finding out. Her reasons had been valid, but Weiss didn't entirely think they outweighed the benefits. Yes, it was only a week from when he'd been released from the infirmary; yes, she _had_ worried constantly about what could have possibly gone wrong while he was away. But, with all that said, Weiss was just glad he had decided to do something to get his mind off of, well… _everything._

Regardless of his and Peter's trip and if it was a good idea or not, he had returned. Yang knew it, Ruby knew it, and so did everyone else. But, oddly enough, or perhaps not that oddly, _Weiss_ was the only one who was willing to go and see him, apart from Dusk. Team RWBY's conversation with the former princess of Oolacile had put the others on edge, even beyond normal. It was justified, but, well, Weiss had never been one to ignore problems.

What she had learned was certainly a problem.

" _Especially after he slew both Laurentius and Solaire, his two dearest friends. It's… ever since he told me, he's been different," Dusk finished, explaining something in response to a question Ruby had asked about his old life. The things he hadn't told them, the nuances of Lordran and Sibyl himself. However, whatever the group had been expecting, hadn't quite been what Dusk explained._

" _Wait, 'Solaire'? His best friend, Solaire, and his teacher, Laurentius?" Yang asked in disbelief._

 _Weiss waited for Dusk to explain properly; Sibyl would never kill his two best friends without a good reason. She didn't 'believe' that, or even want to believe it. She knew it for a fact._

" _Yes. The two fell to Hollowing – or rather, Laurenitus did, after Sibyl had directed his pyromancer teacher to Blighttown. For Sir Solaire, some… bug corrupted his mind, though I cannot for the life of me tell you its identity. Sibyl… he didn't tell thou?" Dusk asked, more towards herself than to them. Slowly, the confusion on her face turned into a forlorn frown. "No, of course the Savior didn't."_

 _She stopped staring at her cupped hands and turned to scan the group surrounding her._ " _It is hardly my place to say, and I fear I have already said too much. Please, ask a different question."_

 _Despite their raging curiosities, they did so. Even Yang recognized the subject of Sibyl killing his two best friends, even if they had Hollowed, was a bit too heavy for her to force a deeper answer out of._

The story had made 'Hollowing' a bit more _real_ to her, in all honesty. Though not so much that she could imagine what it looked like, because she couldn't. Sibyl going mad and insane, trying to kill them? It was impossible to envision. But she _could_ imagine it was possible, because Sibyl wouldn't just kill his pyromancy teacher otherwise, much less Solaire.

It made his standoffish attitude a bit more sensible, though she could only theorize in her own head about why Sibyl was acting as he was. He was an odd boy, so trying to figure out _why_ he did anything was hard, and she was probably wrong.

Still, she suspected he had been expecting a more outraged response from all of them… which wasn't that far off, honestly. Weiss could admit that, if the news hadn't come after her own outraged response at _Blake's_ heritage, and shown the disasters it could cause, she might have given him a new one.

But, as it stood, she understood. Not very well, if she were honest. But she did understand on some level. There was something else she understood, too. Sibyl, above all else, valued honesty and loyalty. It was why she was approaching now, before she could let her mind wander on what she had learned. She wanted to be up front with him on this.

He deserved better; he deserved honesty, especially after all the _lies_ he had been fed. Standing in front of his closed dorm, she knocked softly. There was no immediate response, but eventually there was a grunt from within and he spoke.

"Come in."

It was a defeated voice, but Weiss had expected that. Entering slowly, she shut the door behind her gently before looking at Sibyl, who was positioned on the ground with his head resting up against the wall. It wasn't too strange in its own right, but what was next to him made her blink.

Because there was a _very large_ white wolf next to him, sleeping undisturbed. No, no, it wasn't asleep. One of its eyes was staring straightat _her_.

Why was there a giant white wolf in Sibyl's dorm?

"His name is Sif. He is quite intelligent, so don't treat him as a common pet."

Weiss nodded slowly while the wolf snorted in agreement, closing its eye and returning to its state of rest… for now. It was _specifically_ a wolf? Not an actual dog? Who in the hell trained a _wolf_?

"Right…."

"He's from Lordran, too. His master was Artorias, and now, he is trapped in this world as I am."

Artorias? That was… that was the knight Sibyl killed, the one who had fallen to the Abyss? This wolf was his partner? The wolf stood, stretching lightly and walking up to her. Considering its humongous size compared to the room, it only needed a few steps to reach her. Weiss was a bit surprised, considering it was ignoring the possibility of rest due to her. It sniffed her, and she dared not to move.

It rubbed up against her before returning to Sibyl's side. She decided that meant it liked him to some degree, and with that thought, her eyes flicked from its retreating form to Sibyl. He was looking at her with a half lidded-eye, and he somehow looked more defeated than he had even before, even when he had been laying on that bed, unconscious and injured, when she was unsure if he'd ever wake up.

"…you have met with Dusk already, correct?" He nodded at her question, his brow furrowing just a bit. "And she told you, uh…"

Scoffing lightly, Sibyl crossed his arms at her unasked question.

"Yes. She informed me that my endeavor to get back to Lordran will remain just that: _my an endeavor._ "

Weiss bit her lip, unsure what to say. He seemed very cross, and, well… it was hard to blame him. Someone from his world had made the journey with him, and she refused to help get him back there. It had to hurt.

"Does that make you happy?" Sibyl asked her, and she considered her response carefully for a few moments before speaking.

"Happy you'll be staying for longer? Yes. Happy about everything else? No, not particularly."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair at her words.

She wasn't done speaking, though. "My family… we have glyphs. We can even summon certain creatures and beings. I don't know if I'll be able to help, if they're even somewhat compatible with Soul Sorceries, but I'd like to try and help you return to Lordran."

He looked at her, stunned and blinking. He opened his mouth to speak, and she interrupted him. "But first, you _have_ to tell me why you want to go back to Lordran. Honestly."

The undead nodded, taking a deep breath and resting back against the wall as he seemed to _think_ on his answer. That was good; if he was thinking, then he was actually trying to answer her honestly.

"I am the Chosen Undead. From a few minutes after I was freed from my cell, that's all I've ever been. It's defined me more than anything else – more than my name, more than my ware, more than my sorceries and pyromancy and miracles! And, to be Chosen is to link the Flame. To be _Chosen_ as I am, is to return to Lordran. To give up now would be weak-willed, given how close I am. I'd be spitting in the face of the knight who rescued me."

"Did he even know what he was getting into?" Weiss wondered aloud, and Sibyl grunted.

"Does it matter? I _am_ the Chosen Undead and all which it entails. I believed myself to be destined for it, my friends believed in me, as did the serpent Frampt, manipulative bastard he may be. Before I realized how… useless linking the Flame would be, I had already committed to it fully. It has driven me up until now, and it will drive me until the end."

It was such stupid reasoning, and Weiss resisted the urge to say that aloud. It didn't make sense; the knight who had told him he was destined probably hadn't realized linking the Flame was _useless,_ and Sibyl still insisted upon doing it! She wouldn't call his idea stupid, but she would try and convince him the flaws.

"But you said it's useless-"

"I know," Sibyl cut her off, turning his eye to the floor and clenching his fist. Sif growled softly and mournfully, and at the same time, Sibyl's fists unclenched. "I know. What would you have me say, Weiss? Admit aloud that with every passing moment, with every passing _day,_ my desire to return to that land weakens? That every time I insist I must return to Lordran, I'm unsure if the words are meant for others or for me?"

Weiss didn't say anything, instead digesting his words as the spewed out.

"And, well… much as I love this land, and enjoy all of your company, I am just not fit for here. Everything is so… different. I am but a lost child, same as I've ever been."

He laughed, reaching up and pulling off his eyepatch, throwing it aside and showing off his corrupted eye, that was so… _dark._ "Look at me, Weiss! An abomination, a man fit only to _burn._ If I do not sacrifice myself to the Flame and accomplish something, no matter how meager it may be… I will die with regret in my heart, my honor and promise shattered."

"…you're valued here, you know? We all enjoy your company; _I_ enjoy your company. And you can accomplish great things here! You're stronger than damn-near everyone – you could be a legendary Hunter, teach others pyromancy; you could push the Grimm back!"

Sibyl cursed, and he looked _angry._

"And what of Lordran? What of the undead of my world? Do _they_ not deserve to be saved, simply because they're branded? My friends may be dead, but their hopes aren't. If I sacrifice myself, even if only for a few hundred years, no undead will be branded! No child will be separated from their family; no sorcerer separated from his master, and certainly no one forced to watch as their family turns the other cheek when they're escorted to an asylum!"

Weiss didn't say anything. How could she? How could she claim this world deserved his help, and his old one didn't? Children branded and separated from their parents… God, she hadn't even considered it. But it made sense, didn't it? They'd be just as much at risk of Hollowing as anyone else. Sibyl, upon seeing her stunned and contemplative expression, nodded lightly.

"Do you understand, Weiss?" Sibyl asked, and she paused, fiddling with the hem of her dress before nodding.

"I do."

"All of you lived fine without me. You will live on fine once I'm gone," Sibyl insisted, and Weiss resisted the urge to tear her own hair out and slap him simultaneously. Did he really think so little of himself? Of _them?_

"Stand up and close your eyes," she insisted, and he did so after a moment.

"What are you up-"

She shushed him with a hiss, taking a deep breath as he quieted. She walked forward, standing just a few inches from him. He sighed softly, and she could almost see his eyes roll beneath his eyelids.

Right. This was it: show him just how much she valued him.

"Promise me if you ever doubt returning to Lordran, you won't. If you do that, I'll try and help you return home myself."

Sibyl nodded slowly, eventually whispering two words with conviction. "I promise."

Weiss smiled, calming her nerves as she leaned in and brought her face closer to his. She could feel his even breaths, and as she grew closer and closer, she could- Sibyl's eyes fluttered open suddenly, and he looked so _very_ confused when he saw her face so close to his own. Whatever imaginations she had ended, and Weiss felt herself hesitate as her face began to steam red.

So much for her _bold move._

Sibyl's eyes didn't widen, but he did raise a brow and look so very confused. "W-What?" He muttered, more to himself than her. Weiss's own face was steaming red, and she decided some damage control was in order before his dense self realized what she'd _really_ been trying to do!He shook his head, looking at her with such confusion in his beautiful grey eyes.

"W-What are you doing?" He whispered, his breath hot against her face.

She suddenly stepped back, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I… I wanted to make sure you were being truthful!"

He blinked, tilting his head in confusion. "That… that makes very little sense-"

Weiss huffed, stomping her foot and turning her back to him. "Nor does me offering to return you to Lordarn. Have a good day, Sibyl." With those words, she left, cursing herself for not planting her lips against his _and_ for making such a stupid promise.

* * *

Sibyl had fought many different opponents over his journey, from annoyingly small creatures like the blood-spewing insects of Blight Town to terrifyingly large dragons and demons which were spread all across Lordran. In fighting these many different foes, he'd learned which ones he preferred fighting.

The larger beasts, yes, they were deadly. One wrong move and he would find himself ended near instantaneously. However, that was infinitely better than dealing with the smallest annoyances Lordran had to offer: bugs, small, skeleton babies, and other such tiny creatures. To kill one was to invite another in its wake, and while his swings were always true, each one he killed only ever succeeded in getting his armor bloodied. It was a waste of time in dealing with them at best _,_ and he'd long ago made the decision to mostly ignore them.

There was a third group, and it was the most dangerous of the three. Nimble creatures and beings, larger than say, overgrown rats, but much smaller than most great dragons and demons. Humans could even be included in this category, none better fitting than the mask-wearing murderer Marvelous Chester. He fought like an acrobat, with flips and quick, near-unpredictable movements.

His current opponent was another one of these nimble bastards, and as Sif came at him with a diagonal slice of his blade which forced the undead to roll backwards or find his chest cut open, he remembered just how much he _hated_ fighting nimble foes. They pushed him to the very edge of his abilities, and half the time, invalidated his preferred weapons. It would have been damn near impossible to strike Chester down with a great hammer, as it were.

Sif didn't stop his attack with just the diagonal swing; no, when his front paws hit the ground, he lunged forward and struck low. Sibyl fell upon his knee, bringing his Dragon Crest Shield low enough to deflect the blow while simultaneously striking out with the Partizan spear in his hand. It nicked Sif's side, and the wolf growled in annoyance, before sprinting away and beginning to circle him slowly.

"Hmm. You seemed to have fallen behind, of sorts," Sibyl commented, putting the shaft end of his spear on the ground and leaning against it in a sight of utter disrespect. "Too much time killing mere beasts and not men, hmm?"

Sif growled, flicking his blade before rushing forward in anger.

Sibyl slid his foot back, bringing his spear back and ready to thrust. Sif would likely try to leap over him, he suspected, so he prepared to-

A distinct clearing of the throat made the both of them stop in their movements. Sibyl turned his face to the right, facing the noise while his weapon remained drawn and ready. He blinked at who had made the sound; it was Dusk.

Unconsciously, his hand clenched the Partizan he wielded more tightly. Dusk seemed to not notice as she bowed lightly at their narrowed stares, lingering on Sif a moment or two longer than she did her savior.

"I was hoping to speak," she began, and Sibyl gave Sif a sidelong glance to gauge his reaction. Artorias's old companion huffed, jerking his head and putting his sword more comfortably in his mouth before sauntering off somewhere. Well, it seemed their relationship was still a bit tense… not that Sibyl blamed the wolf. He wanted to be brisk with Dusk as well, but… she was his friend and teacher.

"Well, you've rid me of my sparring partner, so I suppose we must," he responded. Hmm. Perhaps he _could_ be a bit brisk with Dusk after all.

The Princess of Oolacile stiffened lightly at his words, before sighing. "Please, my Savior. It hurts you are so tense with me. I mean only to help thou-"

Scoffing, the undead cut off his teacher before she could get more sentimental. "Dusk, I care for you. You have given me companionship and taught me much; I wouldn't have endeavored to save you from the Abyss otherwise. But I am _angry._ Please, do not ask me to _not_ be angry, because I am _furious._ After all I've done for you – all I sacrificed, you will not assist me in getting back to Lordran. _Weiss_ even offered to help me before you did!" He finished with a yell, his voice having progressively got louder and louder.

Had he not reinforced the Partizan many times over, the shaft of the weapon might have shattered from his grip.

"…I know. But please, allow me to explain this land's plight."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew this world's plight; the school he was at was meant to beat it.

"It goes beyond the simple threat of Grimm. Such evils, as we know, must have a source."

The undead said nothing at her words, and Dusk took the chance to continue. "There is a woman, a queen of the Grimm, if you will. She seeks to see all bent to her will, for humanity to be annihilated or in service to her."

That was nothing new. Evils always had a source behind them, either intentionally or unknowingly forcing such darkness upon the world around them. "And, to do that, she seeks the power of the Maidens. Women blessed with incredible powers – women chosen, just like you were." Sibyl decided to end this conversation before it went much deeper, though the words were intriguing.

"Then they are chosen to fix this mess. Not you, and certainly not me. I cannot abandon my duty, Dusk. _I cannot_."

The woman quieted, her eyes lowering to stare at the floor.

"…I suppose thou has done enough already. Teaching those girls pyromancy and sorcery… perhaps someone worthy of miracles will become apparent as well, before you leave." Dusk finished, and Sibyl found himself a bit surprised at that comment.

"…You think I can manage to get home without you?" It was a prospect which continued to look weaker and weaker. All his experiments led to nothing, though that was before he had the revelation at Adam's base that it was the combination of the Homeward miracle and soul magic.

She nodded without hesitation at his question, smiling softly and a bit sadly, "Dear Savior, thou can do whatever thy mind is set on. I've no doubt thou will return to Lodran, eventually."

She cleared her throat, continuing to speak a moment thereafter. "Well, I won't force thee to listen. The others, the friends thou hast made here, they requested thy presence."

Hmm. Well, it made enough sense. They _always_ seemed to be looking for him. He was still rather confused what Weiss had been doing upon his last encounter with her, though the feeling of her hot breath so close to his face had stirred something in him which he failed to identify.

"…they're quite fond of you," she mentioned, before turning to leave, walking out of the arena. He watched her go, shaking his head and turning to Sif, who had waited until he heard Dusk leave to reenter.

"They've grown on me, as well."

* * *

They had gathered in the girls' dorm for once. Blake had requested everyone here, and everyone who _mattered_ was here. Sibyl was positioned against one of the far walls, an odd, gigantic White Wolf resting at his feet, while she herself was busy pacing back and forth. Yang was lying flat on her bed, head resting between her arms, and Weiss was seated respectfully on the edge of her bed, posture proper. Ruby, meanwhile, was busy rummaging through her drawers until she finally found the notebook she was looking for.

"…so," Yang began, her eyes slanting to look at Sibyl's feet, "What's with the wolf?"

Sibyl hummed, looking down at his own feet for a moment. "He is Artorias's old companion, and quite the skilled one, at that."

"But why is he following _you?"_ The blonde questioned again, and Sibyl gave a light shrug.

"I suspect he has made a promise to ensure that, if I ever go down the path his master took, my end will be swift."

Nobody said anything after that, and Blake quietly thought to herself that it was for the best. She doubted anyone else would be able to do the deed. Though, whether the wolf was strong enough physically to beat him was another debate.

"Alright," Ruby said, finally done rummaging around and holding up a notebook up for all to see. "Blake, take it away!"

Stopping in her pacing momentarily, Blake took a deep breath before sitting back down in the chair she had abandoned in favor of pacing long ago. It was hard to admit, but she was getting drawn back in herself. _She_ wanted to investigate by herself, to leave her team out of it – because all she'd do it put them in danger.

Of course, the _rational_ part of her knew that by not informing them and cooperating, she'd just be putting everyone in more danger. That was why she was going to swallow down her pride and be open about this.

"Right," Blake began, moving a bang out of her face and focusing. "So, I'm still… concerned about the White Fang," she admitted, eyes scanning all of them for a reaction. Ruby's eyes widened for a moment before she began rapidly writing something down on the paper in front of her.

Yang stiffened, while Weiss _somehow_ straightened her posture even more. Sibyl just grunted, flexing his neck lightly. Sif, his wolf companion, didn't move. Right, well, Blake was hardly expecting it to understand what she was even talking about.

"Shouldn't we just leave this to the police?" Weiss asked, voice sharply laced with _something._

Blake scoffed, crossing her arms.

"The police had their chance for months. We did more to ruin the White Fang's plans in a weekend then they did all year," she hissed, but realized she was being irrationally rude. She needed to _cooperate_ with her team, not scold them. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to apologize-

"Y-You're right. Sorry, I just… don't want to get involved with them again, given what happened last time. I'm nervous," the heiress admitted, meekly sounding for once. "We saw what they did to Sibyl and you, and you two were important to that bastard's plans! What… what if they captured me, or Yang, or Ruby? They wouldn't-"

"I would kill them all," Sibyl informed, voice both firm and bored. It wasn't a mindless boast, nor was it said to comfort. He spoke it as it was a fact, and Blake, at the very least, knew it was a fact. "Besides," Sibyl continued, not moving from the wall – though Sif had, as he moved and laid down at Weiss's feet, "Our capture, unfortunate as it may have been, only resulted due to reckless action and a lack of assistance. With all of us working together, we likely will not have such issues."

"Wait, hold up," Yang interrupted, making a 'T' with her palms as she still laid flat on her stomach, "I thought with that Adam guy dead, the White Fang's whole little operation would fall apart?"

Blake shook her head.

"No. Adam isn't… _wasn't_ even one of the High Leaders of the White Fang. Whatever they had planned, it wouldn't just end with him, though we should have delayed it considerably. I'm just concerned; we still don't know what they were planning to do with all that Dust." She paused, turning to look at Sibyl. "Those… _girls,_ their transformation didn't need Dust, did it?"

Sibyl finally pushed himself off the wall, stroking his chin. "No. Or at least, I doubt it. There is no such thing as Dust in Lordran, though perhaps the mad man tried to combine the elements in some way. Still, I doubt he would have needed much, if any, Dust, in that case. Regardless, I am on board with our continued investigation."

Blake smiled at that, happy she at least had him to help.

"The madness which infected monsters like Adam, it often spreads. Given that such madness comes from my homeland, my _teacher,_ even, I must put an end to it."

"So, we're going to work together and figure this out, as a team," Blake finished, her gaze meeting the eyes of everyone in the room. This was _her_ team… if she decided to stay. The small smile which had threatened to grow across her face tightened into a frown.

"Yeah, teamwork!" Came a male, very distinctively _not_ Sibyl, voice from their window. All eyes turned to said window, and to the sight of a familiar monkey Faunus hanging upside down merrily from a tree his tail was wrapped around.

"Sun?" Sibyl questioned, and at his words, Sun flung himself through the window.

"The one and only. And Neptune, too, but he's still outside."

"Can I get a little help here?" Neptune nervously voiced form outside the window.

Blake bit back the need to curse as her privacy was unraveled due to an _open window._ She was going to get a damn bolt lock for that thing.

* * *

They had established their plan. Tomorrow, they were all going to split off in pairs. Weiss, Sif, and Sibyl would go to the communication tower. Yang and Neptune were going to talk to one of Yang's contacts, while Ruby was going to play spotter with her rifle from a rooftop while she and Sun infiltrated a White Fang meeting. Everyone was going to get a good night of rest, and tomorrow, they'd try and figure out just what the White Fang was planning.

But, while they had done _most_ of what Blake had hoped to get accomplished tonight, she hadn't managed to do _everything._ Not yet, at least. And the last chance she had was about to end, so as Sibyl opened the door to leave their dorm, she just _blurted_ something out.

"Can I walk with you, Sibyl?"

The blue-haired knight stopped, turning to give her a backwards glance and smile.

"Of course," he answered, holding open the door to allow her out first. She smiled as he closed the door, Sif at his side. Her smile faded as they began to walk, because neither said anything. The silence was comfortable _and_ uncomfortable. Being around Sibyl himself was comfortable; she just felt… safe, like she had nothing to worry about.

The silence itself, however, was a bit awkward. It wasn't comfortable for her. Sibyl, however, seemed at complete ease, just like he always seemed to be. It was an admirable trait, and had really helped calm her down when things had been at their worst. It made sense why he was always so calm, too. He had seen and survived so much.

Well, here she was. Sibyl was alone with her. She'd been thinking what to say when it finally happened since he'd woken up in the hospital, but now that the moment was here, she had no idea what to say. All her planning, all the conversations in her mind – none of them seemed to matter.

"I'm thinking about leaving Beacon," she finally blurted out, face flushing red at the way she started such a delicate conversation. Sibyl had a slight stutter in his step when the words seemed to register, but he didn't stop. He did give her a look of confusion, however. She was ready to hear disbelieving words, ready for him to dismiss her as a traumatized-

"And why is that?" He questioned softly, and her mind quieted. Right, this was Sibyl – not Yang. He was patient, and he understood her better than maybe _anyone._ He was patient, and he would listen.

"I don't belong here. I'm a terrorist, not some… savior of humanity. Some _hero,"_ she muttered, unable to keep her own eyes from watering. "All I'm doing is putting everyone here in danger. If Adam had captured _anyone_ other than you, they'd be dead. _I'd_ be dead. I almost got _you_ killed, on top of all of that!"

She hugged herself, because no one else was going to. "I definitely am not a hero, so what am I even doing here?"

"Firstly, you did not almost kill me," Sibyl informed, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder firmly. "In fact, I'd rather like to thank you for getting us captured."

Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't _that._ Blake blinked, and then she got angry. "Thank _me_? You'd like to thank me for you getting tortured? For me almost getting _raped!?"_ She hissed, and Sibyl inclined his head lightly.

"Perhaps not in such words, but I am grateful, in a way. It was undoubtedly a traumatizing experience, but while you will remember that as the worst day of your life, I will remember it as the day I _succeeded_ where I once failed," he informed, voice and eyes distant.

Blake was still simmering with anger, but she managed to stop herself from screaming at him. "No. Don't, just… normalize-"

"Blake, a dear friend was once raped and killed. I had promised to protect her, and I _failed_ to do so. All I had been able to do was enact vengeance thereafter, and it had _not_ been a quick one." She grew silent, watching the way Sibyl's fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly. "I am _sorry_ you were violated in such a way, even if it did not escalate fully, but I am grateful you are alive with your purity intact. It is more than some can say," he informed, before sighing and slumping.

Blake wasn't sure what to say about that, other than that it made his absolute _anger_ when he'd finally found her make even more sense. In the end, she didn't say anything, but Sibyl wasn't done speaking.

"I don't think you should leave Beacon, but who am I to say such things? Most would prefer I stay here, but our convictions are our own."

Blake fiddled with her hair, as nervous a gesture as she was capable of.

It was a long shot, but… she just felt _safe_ around Sibyl. She wanted to keep that warmth around. And, if she _were_ to go with him, no one here would be put in danger. And Sibyl wouldn't have to suffer alone.

"…maybe I could go with you? To Lordran, I mean, when you go back-"

Sibyl gave her a look like she was _absolutely_ insane, and it hurt. Was she that much of a burden?

"No. Lordran is no place for you."

It was curt and dismissive. She didn't like it. "I could survive there. I'm _strong_."

He shook his head, waving her words off.

"Many have thought the same, but no, that is not why I don't want you in Lordran. It is a land falling apart, in ruins and filled to the brim with filth. You are far too good for-"

"Then what about you!?" She demanded, resisting the urge to slap him. "You act like you're some monster, but you're not! You're… you're great. You saved me, you've been teaching everyone all these things, and for what?!"

"I am not _good,_ Blake-" He tried to insist, but it was nonsense.

"Stop it! You're good, you're just too guilt-ridden to realize it! I know about Solaire, about Laurentius! It wasn't your fault-"

"Y…You know?" He mumbled, looking dazed.

She felt her anger drop and pity come in its wake.

"…Yeah. Dusk told us; she thought we already knew," Blake was quick to give that detail, before he got angry at the princess for things which weren't her fault. "I… I can only guess how hard it was, to lose your friends, but please,it wasn't your fault."

Sibyl ran a hand through his hair, sighing all the while. "Regardless, I will not be missed if I venture to Lordran. The lives I will save by sacrificing myself to the Flame… I can only hope it redeems me. You, however, have much more at stake. Friends, people who love you-"

"But I love _you_!"Blake blurted, and then felt her face turn red at the fact she had even _said_ those words. Where had they come from? Sure, she didn't want him to leave, but she didn't _love_ him.

…did she? He made her feel safe; that was true, wasn't it? Every time he was around, she got this warm feeling. It hadn't always been there, but when he'd saved her from-

"No. No you do not," Sibyl informed, once again making decisions _for her._

She was tired of it. "You don't get to decide-"

"Yes. Yes, I do, for I was once the same. Tell me, did you have these thoughts before I arrived to kill your violators? Before we were captured together?"

Blake opened her mouth to dismiss the words, but it was true. She'd always thought he was a bit weird, a bit too pale – too suspicious. Was it just the trauma forcing her to say things like that? It couldn't be that simple, could it? No… no, it might have been that simple.

She hadn't even really had these thoughts until _just now,_ actually, when he said she couldn't go with him. It was perfectly natural, too. He'd been the only one there for him in her worst hour; he'd fought through and endured a lot just to help her. Of course, he fulfilled that 'knight in shining armor' fantasy, maybe even a bit literally, but that wasn't _love._

It was a misguided attempt at happiness at best, one which might come back to bite them in the long run. Still, there was one way to tell.

Closing the distance, she kissed him, and she kissed him right. His lips were a bit dry, and his breath smelt just like the rest of him – that odd, pleasant ashy scent. It wasn't a brief kiss, nor was it too long. She did all the little things, but everything she was supposed to _feel_ just wasn't right. It honestly felt a bit weird – almost like what she imagined kissing a brother might feel like. She released him and stepped back, sighing and staring at her own feet. Who knew what Sibyl's expression was like at the moment; she was a bit too embarrassed to care.

Yeah. If her feelings of 'love' had been deconstructed in a minute or so, it definitely wasn't love. At least, not in that way.

"…you're right," she informed, begrudgingly. "But you're still a really close friend. You would be missed if you went to Lordran, and you don't deserve to be so… lonely."

"Nor do you, Blake, but we will do what we must. I would tentatively say Beacon is the best place for you to be, but I will make no demands that you stay if you _truly_ feel you must leave." He paused, idly touching his lips before shaking his head. "Besides, I believe the White Fang's obsession with you began and ended with Adam. He is most assuredly dead now, so whatever danger your friends are in is minimal, and your ability to fight offsets it."

He was right. The boy from some different universe, in what had sounded like a medieval age, was _right,_ and she was wrong. Blake was just trying to punish herself; leaving wouldn't change the reality here. It might even just make it worse, since she wouldn't be here to offer insight into what she knew of the White Fang.

"…thanks, Sibyl. Have a good night," she finished, turning away from the so-called Chosen Undead and returning to her dorm. She had a lot to think about.

* * *

Sibyl watched Blake leave, happy his guidance had a positive result, even if he was confused with most of what else had occurred. Her kiss had a been a surprise, and not that pleasant of one, either. He didn't feel for her in that way, and clearly, it was mutual. That was good, at least. He hardly wanted to crush anyone's desires.

Still, their conversation had touched on a few things he wasn't happy about. His friends knowing about the fate of his _former_ friends, for one. Dusk had crossed a line, unknowingly or not. He… he wasn't _angry,_ but he wasn't exactly happy, either. It warranted a thorough talk-

"Well, that was interesting," a voice, a _familiar voice_ ,called out from behind him. After so much time, Sibyl had just one reaction to anyone or anything that managed to properly sneak up behind him: in the blink of an eye, the undead had summoned a fireball in his hand and turned fully around, ready to burn the person who had spoken to a crisp.

And, the sight in front of him… didn't confirm nor deny who he'd thought it was. There was no ominously smiling mask staring at him; no, instead, it was the face of a young man with a fairer complexion than he himself had. He had never actually _seen_ Chester's face, and what he was seeing didn't quite fit the mental image he had comprised.

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

The voice, though, was something he'd never forget.

That _did_ confirm it, then. _Chester_ was in front of him. Chester! The man who had tried to kill him, who's sense of humor was deprecatingly dark. The man who made jokes of other's people's misfortune, from a blind giant to a grieving lover. _That_ man, who should be rotting alone with the rest of Oolacile, was in front of him.

Sibyl marched across the hall, careful of any tricks – but when he was finally confident there was none, he _pounced,_ grabbing the bastard by his shirt and slamming him up against the nearest wall.

Chester grunted in pain before laughing. It was so annoyingly _Chester,_ and Sibyl was hardly in the mood for his games, so he pressed him harder against the wall in the hopes his spin would break."Quiet, you wretched bastard. Why in Izalith are you here? _How_ are you here? And most importantly, give me one reason I shouldn't end you where you stand."

"This is going better than I expected, to be hones-"

Sibyl let him go from the wall, immediately burying one of his fists into his stomach when Chester's feet had hit the ground. He was left a coughing and heaving mess, but he didn't fall to his feet. He was too prideful for that.

"No games, Chester. I _will_ kill you. I've had enough difficulties lately."

When the masked mystery finally recovered his breath, he straightened and did his best to look dignified. "Fine. Not like I'd expect _you_ to appreciate a bit of drama."

Sibyl's brow furrowed, and Chester took the hint to get to the point before he found another fist buried in his gut.

"Whatever you did against that Manus which dragged you here? Well, it dragged me, too. And apparently Dusk? Wasn't expecting that, but it makes enough sense. Taking a princess from her kingdom? How retched," Chester commented, the laughter in his throat dying when Sibyl took a step forward.

"Really, though, I should be thanking you! I didn't want to stay in that boring kingdom, anyways. This world, this 'Remnant', though? It's everything I've ever imagined, and _more."_

"I'm still not hearing a reason to _not_ gut you where you stand," Sibyl mentioned, and it was true. Chester could cause more troubles here than he could a ruined kingdom. There were far more innocent people, and far, far too many _naïve_ people.

"I've turned a new leaf. Who are you to judge? If I were to describe _your_ accomplishments, you'd seem quite the monster, wouldn't you?" Sibyl said nothing, so Chester continued. "When I awoke here, I met a _woman._ She's made a _saint_ of me, I promise."

Sibyl breathed deep through his nose, resisting the urge to skewer him where he stood. Sibyl had lived his journey by a few convictions. He believed in understanding, in empathy and sympathy, and he believed there had to be a righteous reason to kill someone. Chester? Sibyl had already killed Chester when a righteous reason had presented itself. Chester had taken the loss well enough, not trying to fight when they met face-to-face later. So, Sibyl hadn't killed him a second time, but the undead had stayed prepared for that second reason to appear.

He needed a reason to kill Chester again. A real reason, not just anger and annoyance at the fact he was _here._ The man was vile, yes, but so were a great many people. His only crime Sibyl could prove was Chester's attempt to steal his humanity... but humanity was a precious resource. Many felt forced to steal it, even, so it felt wrong to just... _kill_ an undead for it. Well, at least a second time, when Chester had shown no real inkling that he wanted to fight again after his phantom form being struck down. Now, if Chester were to mention offhandedly about how he was going to kill someone soon, Sibyl would justifiably strike him down without pause. But Chester wasn't going to say that, so Sibyl's fireball would stay in his hand. "But why are you _here?"_ Sibyl finally asked, and Chester shrugged.

"She has dreams of being a Huntress, of a _hero._ It's all nonsense to me, but I'd rather her not end up like our old friend, Artorias. So, I guess I'm along for the ride…"

It wasn't entirely unfeasible. To be frank, Sibyl preferred not to ever try and venture into Chester's depraved mind and try to understand how he thought. Still, a few things needed to be made clear. "I don't care about you or what you do, but if you come anywhere near my friends or threaten _anyone_ at this school, I will kill you. Whatever plans you might have, I will stop them. Again, _I will kill you._ And this time, it will be permanent. Are we clear?"

Chester smiled. "Crystal. Why, you haven't changed at all. I was almost worried, but we're still the same as we always were; two strangers lost in an even stranger land. And we're even being herded around by others like cattle. Me, by my dearest, and you, by the admins of this school. They're just using you, you realize?"

Upon seeing Sibyl's blank face, Chester shrugged. "You've always been used to that, though, haven't you? Well, I best be off; my dearest is waiting. So long, oh, _Chosen Undead_."

He sauntered off, and Sibyl was left with a few choices. Killing him while his back was turned was the most appealing, but the least viable. Tail him and see if anything suspicious happened? But that meant _following_ Chester, and he wanted nothing to do with the bastard. Thirdly, he could go tell Glynda a vile man had infiltrated their school.

It was a fine thought, if he were to behonest. But he didn't need help to keep an eye on a single mad man. He'd dealt with Chester before, and with the event Vale was due to host, Glynda hardly needed more on her plate. He certainly wouldn't be going to Ozpin about it; he trusted the headmaster as far as he could throw him… which was actually probably quite far. That was a bad analogy for an undead of his caliber, now that he thought about it.

Anyways; whatever woman could worm her way into Chester's heart was suspicious. He'd have to keep an eye on her, too. A small, lingering part of his mind was telling him to worry more, but for what? He was quite confident he could throw a wrinkle into any nasty plans Chester might have for this place. And, if his lady friend was in anyway involved… he'd kill her too.

Sibyl prided himself on being the most powerful person around. He had no reason to fear Chester, just as he had been given no reason to fear Adam. The man had caught him off guard, maybe, but Sibyl had never _feared_ him. And, in the end, Sibyl had won. He _always_ won, and he would continue to do so.

Sighing and running a hand through his hair, Sibyl prepared to return to his dorm. It had been a long night, and he needed a few hours of sleep for tomorrow's journey into town.

* * *

"So… how was your friend?" Cinder asked, and Chester rubbed his stomach lightly in remembrance.

"He hasn't aged a day." And, certainly, that was true. His punch had cracked a rib, or three. Sitting down on his bed next to Cinder, Chester stretched wide. Two hands slowly curled around his chest, and he could _feel_ the heat in them, threatening to melt through his chest and turn his heart black.

"I'm trusting you with this, you know. If he doesn't act like you think, if I see Goodwitch even _glance_ at me wrong, there will be consequences."

Oh, her words just sent tingles down his spine. What a _woman!_

"Don't worry too much. He's easy to manipulate; he'll keep things to himself." Hands tightening around the sheets he sat upon, Chester breathed deeply. "And, if he doesn't listen and take his trip back, I'll kill him when it's time. Oh, _I will end him."_

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: So, for Sibyl's characterization, I've always had an idea for him in mind. He was always intended to be physically very strong, though on a similar level with other powerful beings in the RWBY universe. His main "bad" traits have always supposed to have been overconfidence and stubbornness. Not to mention, the Abyss effect on him is supposed to be somewhat parallel to his personality. He is kind and calm usually, and the abyss turns him into the opposite of what he should be.**_

 _ **I hope I haven't created some Mary Sue type character, or at least, an uninteresting one. It's… difficult, I guess, not being able to fast-forward to the end or to certain points in this story that really shape things in the image I want. Things that really drive in the tone of this story. I always fear that I'm doing too much, or moving things too fast, but it's all with a purpose, I promise. I've had this arc in mind for a long time, in terms of pacing. Things start slow, build up, reach a climax, I introduce a bunch of new elements, and they stabilize over a bit of time.**_

 _ **Hopefully, these elements keep this story somewhat original as far as concepts are concerned, while still being enjoyable.**_

 _ **Onto romance! I don't want to say much, other than that the only thing this chapter confirmed is Blake not being it. I certainly hinted with Weiss, but there's always more layers I like to have before I confirm anything.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading. Have a good one!**_


	14. Coming Together

**_Not too much to say. I lost a lot of motivation to write, but read a few reviews and started feeling bad, so I powered through this chapter. I just find chapters like these so terribly boring to write; it kills me. Essentially because I feel like I'm just recounting an episode everyone already knows. I try to change things as best I can, but at a certain point, some events just have to happen, and I can't adapt them well to make them more original._**

 _ **Anyways. Thanks for all the reviews, and I'd like to thank everyone for their patience. I got no angry pm's, only encouraging reviews. I suspect because a lot of people who read my story try to write, and they know how hard it can be at times. Have a good thanks-giving and holiday season! Hopefully next chapter comes sooner. Also, my joining the military is accelerating quickly. Going to MEPS soon, so excited about that. God bless and have a good day.**_

 _ **EDIT: Now Beta'd by my good pal Kevin, the beta for all my prior chapters.**_

* * *

Gathering as promised, everyone was here, from Sun and Neptune, to himself and Weiss. It was a rather important day, as hopefully it would assist in putting Blake's worries to rest. The plan had been discussed previously, with Blake and Sun infiltrating a meeting, while the rest of them scattered on other various delicate tasks. He and Weiss seemed to have the simplest one, to be honest. He'd rather be at the forefront of danger, but there was some wisdom in having him ready to respond to anything which might come up.

It was the only thing which brought him comfort.

"Must. Resist. Urge. To. Pet." Ruby muttered under her breath, her eyes wide as she continued to stare at the fluffy, wild, grey mane of Sif. It was a bit… silly to watch, honestly, given that he had rarely, if ever, entertained thoughts of petting Sif. He'd always considered the pup too intelligent to be treated as a common pet. Sif could wield a sword, after all. That was as close to human as one could get in his opinion.

Sif, seeming to hear Ruby, stood and stretched, moving over to the girl before plopping down on his back. One expectant stare later, the wolf had properly trained his human pet to give his stomach some scratches. "Ooh, who's a good dog! You're so smart, aren't you? I wish Zwei could wield a sword… maybe he can?"

Gods above, she was talking to him with that insufferable 'baby' speech. But, well, Sif seemed to be entertaining the girl. Maybe it was just what everyone needed: some lighthearted fun. Who was he to stop them?

"Ruby, can you focus please?" Weiss's words cut through the air, and seemingly instantly, the girls' team leader straightened out, giving a sloppy salute to the girl in white.

"Yes, ma'am!"

Sun laughed, the monkey Faunus and his friend Neptune having been the last two to arrive to their group meetup. The Chosen Undead had no real feelings, one way or another, on the latter's presence; Sun was of course welcome. He was forced to assume Neptune was of respectable character, given Sun vouched for him. It was enough, and again, even one more person could help with situations like these.

Paying those around him enough mind, Sibyl finished fastening his gauntlets, before finally putting on the same helmet of eastern design Shiva used to wear oh-so-long-ago. It was a sturdy set, the Eastern Armor, which he had found one day in the Darkwood Forest. It was comfortable, as well as light, so it wouldn't slow him down much. Besides, the helmet provided much better visibility than the more traditional knight armors he was used to. It would also help mask his infection, which was the most important thing of all.

It felt nice not having cloth against his bare skin for once. Damn masks… he'd never liked them, but it was a necessity.

"You know, this is the first time I've seen you in heavy armor since we first met," Yang mentioned offhandedly, and he nodded, enjoying having the bars of metal in front of his delicate face. Ah, he missed wearing full helmets.

"Yes, it has been some time. Still, this both help covers my infection, as well as gives a sturdy line of defense should things go awry tonight." The only question he had left was what weapon to bring, and he'd decided that intimidation was the biggest factor. Should the White Fang try to attack again, he wanted them to fear him, if they did not already.

There was only one weapon which made him hesitate when he picked it up, one sole weapon which he feared. The Dragonslayer Spear, chosen weapon of the Captain of the Four Knights of Gwyn, Ornstein the Dragonslayer. Grasping around its shaft, he squeezed firmly, fighting through the phantom pain in his stomach.

Sif growled softly, and Sibyl frowned behind his helmet. Yes… the wolf probably knew Ornstein, didn't he? But that was what Sibyl did, wasn't it? What the Chosen Undead did: killed opponents who dared be in his path into irrelevance. Sighing, the knight mentally hardened himself before giving the spear a brief twirl, careful to not strike the ceiling or his surroundings.

"You have a ton of weapons, don't you?" Sun asked, and Sibyl nodded.

"Variety is the spice of life, as they say."

Sun nodded at the undead's words, though he eyed him for a bit longer than he might normally. Then again, he'd probably read Sibyl's letter in-between the last three weeks. A long gaze should be expected, given what it had outlined.

Yang finished fastening her own weaponized gauntlets, and with that, everyone was ready. The day had really dragged, but the time was here. Blake looked elated and nervous, while most of everyone else just seemed nervous.

"We all understand the plan, yes?" Sibyl received a series of nods from all in the room. He certainly wasn't the leader, or the one who had come up with the plan of investigation, but he did want to clarify a few things. "Good. Blake, Sun, should anything go awry, call for immediate backup."

He paused, digging into a pouch on his person.

He presented two Green Blossoms to Blake and Sun. "Green Blossoms. A bitter herb, I admit, but one which provides a great boost to stamina temporarily. Use it if conflict arises." They each took one, and it did a remarkable job reducing his stress level. If nothing else, it would give them the endurance needed to flee.

"…Sif," the undead began, getting the wolf's attention, "I had planned on you coming with me, but it would ease my mind should you stay with Ruby and help keep watch over Sun and Blake's infiltration. Would you do so kindly?"

Sif growled in confirmation, standing and retrieving his blade from the far side of the room before standing firmly next to the youngest girl in the room.

"Excellent. Well then, I believe we have little to wait for."

* * *

"It's impressively large," Sibyl admitted as he took in the sight of the Transit Tower, and it didn't sound like he was saying it just to appease her expectations of a reaction from him.

Weiss nodded in confirmation, but while it was large, it was nothing compared to what they had in Atlas.

"You should see the one in Atlas, the first of them to be built," she explained, noticing Sibyl's brow furrow briefly in that uniquely odd way of his. "They transmit messages all across the globe, instantly. It was a very important development, helping unite different people under different walks of life, as well as allow humanity to better organize and band together against the Grimm."

Sure, they could have made a trip to the library and accomplished everything they were trying to do without going to Transit Tower, but she wanted to wow Sibyl. And, as she explained what it was able to do, he looked quite wowed. From what little she could see of his face beneath the iron bars, anyways. How did he have so many different armors...

"A gift after the great war, no? I believe that's what the texts said, anyways."

Nodding, the Schnee heiress allowed herself to fall more steadily into step beside Sibyl as they entered the tower. "I wonder what Lordran might have been like with such technology," the knight idly wondered, completely ignorant to the many odd looks his armor was receiving; it was charming in its own way, his obliviousness. "Perhaps the plight of the undead would have been better understood if we could communicate with those who would rather ignore us."

She didn't want to crush his hopes, but given that Faunus existed and faced similar discrimination… she doubted it would have done much of anything, especially since undead had a more valid reason to be hated and feared. Still, while Sibyl had explained what an undead was, and what being one entailed, she still didn't properly understand the culture built around being undead. It could be perceived different than Faunus, though.

After all, humans could just ignore Faunus as other, lesser beings. Being undead was more akin to… to a disease? It could happen to anyone, from a king to a farmer. It made her head hurt and her heart ache, so Weiss shook her head and focused back on her surroundings.

"Space is a bit open," the undead mumbled to himself, but Weiss caught the meaning behind his words. She also saw the way he tensed; it wasn't anything with his face, because she couldn't see his face beneath his helmet enough to see and tell. But he postured a bit straighter, his stride got a bit shorter, and his fingers flexed around the grip of his weapon, which was a very large spear that had impaled him in the past.

"…does it bother you?" She decided to ask, and she waited patiently as he paused in his step, giving the room one more long glance before sighing.

Another moment of looking around, he finally turned to her to speak. "Yes. The bigger the space, the bigger a demon it can fit. Sometimes a dragon, too, but not as often. One learned to search for the signs of a dragon if they intended to not be burnt alive."

It made a twisted sort of sense, so Weiss hummed to herself as the two entered the elevator. As the door closed, a voice rang out. "Hello, welcome to the CCT. How may I help you today?" It took the Huntress a few moments to focus, because she saw Sibyl staring at the screen with narrowed eyes. He was no longer easily startled by things like intercoms, but that didn't mean they made much sense to him on a technological level. Nothing did, really.

She quickly verified her identify with her scroll, Sibyl dutifully patient by her side all the while.

"Perfect. Thank you Miss Schnee," finished the intercom voice, and Weiss was stuck between a desire to grimace and smile. She settled for a mix of both, and as the elevator rose, stopped, and the door opened, she composed herself and walked out with a confident stride, Sibyl trailing behind like a particularly menacing bodyguard.

The projected-secretary behind the most prominent desk looked up from her work, greeting the pair pleasantly. "Welcome to the Beacon-Cross-Continental Transmit center. How may I help you?"

"I need to make a call to Schnee Company World Headquarters in Atlas."

"If you'll head over to terminal 3, I'll patch you through."

"Thank you," Weiss inclined her head, beckoning Sibyl to follow.

"This all seems like a bit much," he spoke aloud, looking around with small wonder at the many different people and terminals. "It's… I really don't even know what to say. Only the walls of Anor Londo ever reached the skies, and even then, only just. And these projections? They're incredible. It gives me ideas for a soul sorcery, but I doubt I have a good enough understanding to follow through with it."

Weiss opened her mouth, but hesitated. Sibyl was insanely well versed with sorcery; what could she offer to help with? But, he said he didn't have a good enough understanding of projections to follow through with it. That was something she did have. After a few moments of silent contemplation, she decided to follow through. "I'd be happy to help, if I can."

Sibyl hummed, taking the offer in. "Perhaps you could. There was a way for beings to cross timelines in Lordran, using a crystal. They would come in a phantom-like form; I'm beginning to wonder if such magic can be replicated. A… projection of one's soul, either as an illusion or a half-physical manifestation."

Sibyl paused, stopping in his steps. "…perhaps even a way to speak with dead and lost souls."

Weiss blew air as she thought, arriving at the terminal she'd been assigned. Sibyl's pondering would have to wait for now. There were more urgent things to take care of.

The two settled at the terminal, Weiss taking her seat, seeing as how Sibyl was mostly here to look menacing. It took a few moments, but the screen powered up to display a woman with fair skin and orange hair. "Thank you for calling the Atlas-"

Finally, the woman seemed to recognize just who had called. It always seemed to go that way.

"Ah, Miss Schnee. Good afternoon; can I patch you through to your father? Your sister is around as well, I believe."

Smiling cheerfully, Weiss tried to make that expression somewhat more real by recalling that Sibyl was near. "No, thank you, I was actually hoping you could retrieve some files for me." Reaching for her Scroll, she placed it accordingly on the terminal.

She did her best to keep her face passive while the data transferred, because she had a feeling when her request went through-

"Miss Schnee, these are some very... sensitive documents," the girl behind the monitor muttered, face scrunched in... well, it was hard to say whether it was confusion or worry.

Keeping her voice as passive as possible, she nodded. "It's for a school project," she insisted with the bold-faced lie, and Sibyl nearly chuckled behind her.

She quieted him with a quick side-glare, before turning back to the confused girl who was doing something which could possibly get her fired. "I-I understand, but if these were to fall into the wrong hands-"

"I'll be sure to take good care of them," Weiss answered, voice a bit chippy. It was a Schnee tone, and when a Schnee used it, employees bowed to their whims. It was a bit irritating and made her stomach churn to actually have to use it, but it was for a good cause. Necessity compels.

"Very well. Do take care, Miss Schnee."

A few moments later, the data was transferred, and Weiss more-or-less dismissed herself and Sibyl. They had more important things to get up to.

* * *

It wasn't as if she was confused as to why everyone who passed them by, from kids to old people, were staring; she'd have to be really oblivious to not realize why they were an odd sight. And, while Weiss always said she was a dolt, she wasn't that dolt-ish. Was that even a word? Ruby was going to make it a word, that's for sure.

A fifteen year old girl, especially a Huntress-in-training, sitting on a bench with a gigantic, white wolf which was dutifully licking a scoop of vanilla ice-cream, was not something the people of Vale saw every day. They might have been more used to oddities than most, but it was starting to push it just a little bit. But, while Ruby was more than willing to acknowledge they looked a bit odd, she definitely didn't care.

"See? It's good, isn't it?" Whether or not Sif heard her, she couldn't exactly say for sure. What she could say is he did give an answer, and that answer was to keep on licking the dairy treat happily. Ruby couldn't help but stare at his tongue as he did so; it was so big! Sif was so big, and according to Sibyl, he wasn't even full grown! He already came up to her chest! How much larger could he get?

He was a big, good boy. His fur was so soft, and he had such beautiful eyes. It was a bit odd, because she was so used to Zwei – and Ruby loved Zwei – but she'd also always liked bigger dogs. Especially big dogs who could wield a sword which looked absolutely awesome. How did he even learn to wield a sword? She could vaguely recall Sibyl saying Sif had been Artorias's partner, and Sibyl always talked about Artorias with a lot of respect.

She could understand why. How cool did someone have to be to have a wolf for a partner, and to teach _that_ wolf to wield a freakin' sword!

A large part of her wanted to ask Sibyl if she could keep Sif, but it was held back by one thing: Sif wasn't exactly a house pet. He was incredibly intelligent, which she'd only realized after he nodded an answer to her fourth, supposedly rhetorical question. Then she'd asked if he could understand her, and he'd nodded again. A few more probing questions later, and she realized he was probably smarter than Cardin was… not that it was hard to be smarter than Cardin.

Sif may not have been a person, but he was close enough. Maybe she could even make him an honorary member of team RWBY, just like Sibyl? Ruby was the leader, so she had the ability to do that if she wanted to, right?

Well, it was something to think about as she tried to keep the time passing smoothly. And that was difficult, because she had to wait all the way until tonight. It's not like Blake and Sun could just ask the White Fang to move up their meeting time, anyways...

"I wish we didn't have to wait so long for tonight... I don't even know where to scout out on the rooftops!" Slumping slightly, Ruby leaned her head back and sighed. "But hey, I have you! And we have this ice cream!" Glancing at the cone to see where Sif was at, Ruby blinked. It was entirely gone. Had he just eaten it all at once? There had still been so much left!

Sif was looking at her expectantly. Giggling, the young Huntress rose to her feet, stretching and standing on her toes. "Sure, we can go get more."

She had taken precisely two steps before she slammed into someone, falling onto her behind.

When Sif started growling, Ruby decided she needed to stop caring about the fact she'd fallen on her bottom, and instead, care more about the situation before it escalated. "Sif, it's fine," she insisted, shaking her head and turning to whoever had knocked her down. She blinked upon seeing familiar orange hair, and an even more familiar face: Penny.

She hadn't seen Penny in forever! Last time she saw her was the night Blake and Sibyl got kidnapped. The smile on her face faded at that memory, but Ruby shook it off. "Penny! Where have you been? We haven't seen you since the night at the docks!"

The girl in question froze, her eyes widening.

"...I think you're confused," she quickly said, brushing off her body and offering a quick incline of the head. "I've got to go!" Without another word uttered, she turned and set off at a brisk pace.

Ruby's jaw nearly dropped, She thought Penny was a friend! She'd been so eager to help that night, not to mention friendly! A part of her wanted to yell in frustration, but she settled on giving Sif a glance.

Right, well, Ruby wasn't going to let Penny just leave without an explanation.

Rushing to catch up, and with Sif at her heels, she cut off Penny's escape path.

"Penny, please. Things have been crazy since the docks… we're actually going after the guys who caused that big mess tonight!"

The girl in question froze, finally turning to meet Ruby's eyes.

"And, I know we don't know each other that well, but I have been worried about you! I was afraid some White Fang member might have seen your face and went after your or something. Just… please, will you speak to me? I thought we were friends…"

Penny's face finally softened, and Ruby decided that was a good thing. "This… isn't the best place to talk about this."

Well, fine! So long as they could go somewhere to talk.

"I… There is a café a few blocks from here."

Ruby nodded; there were a lot of cafés in Vale, but she knew of the nearest one. "Meet me there in like an hour, so you can… uh, do whatever you need to do?" Ruby questioned, and when Penny nodded, she smiled.

Perfect! They'd be able to figure things out. She was tired of all the surprises and secrets; luckily, Penny seemed relatively normal. No big surprise – like bombs would be dropped on her today – nope!

* * *

"This is it," Blake declared, observing as two Faunus were let through at the guard-in-disguise stepped aside. She could feel her heart start to beat _just_ a bit faster. How many Fang members would be in there? What would they be discussing? Would she be spotted? Sure, she wasn't exactly unique as far as Faunus went, but when paired with Sun's distinct golden hair, they might be able to pick them out of a crowd. Why was this rally still going through, anyways? Adam was dead – Sibyl had seen to that. The Fang should be reorganizing, putting new leaders in place. There would be some chaos for at least a _little_ bit. Instead, they were-

"You sure?" Sun questioned, and Blake paused in her mental ramblings, turning to glare. The monkey Faunus quickly straightened, holding his hands up in surrender, "Y'know, I'm just gonna' take your word for it!"

Keeping her glare up for another moment, she shook her head, reaching up to undo the bow atop her head. Turning the alley corner together, she and Sun walked side-by-side. The usher looked at them for a few moments before nodding, speaking a few words of Fang propaganda which she tuned out.

And finally, they were in. The pair who had entered before them were still within sight, being talked to by a man in a White Fang uniform, complete with mask. The two new recruits were given their own mask, too. God, she couldn't stop staring at those masks. Faunus hiding who they are, because they're so ashamed but afraid to admit it. Not hiding because they're Faunus, but because of just what kind of a Faunus they _were._ Hiding behind a mask to shield them from their terrible actions, their _stupid_ beliefs that _they_ were strongerthan _her_ and she should be punished for just _leaving_ the Fang. Like she was some property, some lump of meat-

"Blake!" Sun snapped, and Blake whirled, throwing a fist which was caught just _inches_ from his face. Blake couldn't hear anything but her own heartbeat for a few seconds, and there was this sort of distant ringing in her ears which made it hard to focus on anything. Eventually, her heartbeat calmed, and she was finally able to focus again. Sun had gently lowered her fist back to her side, but her hand was still clenched.

"...you gonna' be okay?" He asked, softly, so hopefully none else could hear.

She almost nodded, but decided against it. Lying didn't do any good. "Maybe. I don't know."

Resting a hand on her shoulder, Sun squeezed firmly. "I may not be Sibyl, but I'm not too bad in my own right."

Ah, yes, because Blake needed protecting. Her, a Huntress-in-training, needed protection against a bunch of barely-trained White Fang grunts. A part of her wanted to scowl and brush his damn hand off her shoulder, but he was just trying to help and comfort her. She didn't need to lash out. It wasn't _Sun's_ fault she had failed. But, Blake was _never_ going to fail again.

"...thanks. Let's just get this over with."

Blake decided she needed to stop thinking, at least until something important was going on. So it was with robotic movements that she took her mask from the White Fang member offering them and donned it, and when her and Sun finally found their place in the crowd among other 'recruits', her brain was turned on again.

A few moments later, someone began to speak.

"Thank you all for coming," he began, walking across a stage to the backdrop of a large, black curtain with the White Fang emblem painted on its center. It wasn't Adam's usual lieutenant, that was for sure. But she _did_ recognize him as someone relatively high up the chain. "For those of you only just joining us, allow me to pass on some terrible news. Adam Taurus is dead. He didn't die as he should have, a hero, by old age, celebrated by all. No, he was murdered."

There were murmurs of sadness and confusion across the crowd. Blake nearly cheered.

"Before that, though... Adam had a vision. A vision which had followed him since he was a child, and one which was very close to coming true. He recruited a very special someone to help with that vision. He is the key to achieving what we've fought to achieve for so long..."

From behind the curtain, someone walked out. Blake scowled, but was quick to school her features. They couldn't be found out... though, a scowl was on most of the other Faunus's faces at this point. The person who'd walked out was was Roman Torchwick. So, even with Adam dead, Roman was still in touch with the White Fang.

"Please, hold your applause," Roman both began and taunted.

A few Faunus murmured, one eventually throwing out what most of them were thinking: "What's a human doing here!"

"What, is a human not allowed to mourn an old acquaintance who he despised and was equally despised by?"

Blake blinked, but overall wasn't too surprised at the statement. Adam would have _never_ gotten along with a human, and from what she'd observed of Roman, he wasn't all that open-minded.

"Me and Adam, we were never pals. But we were working together towards the same goal: taking down those pulling the strings. You know who. The government. Atlas, Beacon, Huntresses and Hunters! All people working together to _keep_ you down. I don't personally care much if you lot are muzzled and caged, and I doubt you'd care if I ended up dead in a ditch somewhere. What matters is that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. And those enemies... they're pests who need to be put down.

"Fortunately, I'm the best exterminator in town. No offense to the rodents in the room." With a snap of his fingers, the curtain on the stage was pulled back, and Blake felt her own eyes widen.

He had a giant _mech._

"Yup. Atlas's newest and best line of defense against all the scary things in this world, _generously_ donated to all of you by the Atlas military! With the help of my employer, we managed to snag a few more before they hit the shelf."

This... this was huge. It didn't seem too relevant to whatever the hell Adam had been trying to do, but this was still _huge_ , literally. And they had grabbed more than one? Also, Roman had claimed he had an 'employer.' That meant he wasn't at the top of this command chain – he was _answering_ to someone. Previously, she might have thought it was Adam or a White Fang high leader, but now... now she wasn't so sure. It could be anyone!

"Now, many of your brothers have already moved to our little operation in the south east. If you'd rather stay within the city, that's fine. But if you're truly ready to fight for what you believe in, this is the arsenal I can provide you." Roman paused to light his cigar, taking a long drag and puffing the smoke forward. "Any questions?"

"We need to get the hell outta' here," Sun muttered under his breath, leaning in close to her. She nodded; it should be easy to just dip out the back, if they moved quickly-

"All new recruits to the front!"

Damn it! This was bad, bad. All around them, Faunus eagerly moved up as close as they could to the stage. Her and Sun stayed still as they got bumped into, her mind busy racing for a solution to get out of here. White Fang agents had blocked their behinds, and were ushering people forward. There weren't any exits in this room on the ground floor; there were a few windows and a door on the upper stage, at most.

"He sees us," Sun observed, voice oddly monotone. Blake glanced towards the stage, and it was true; Roman was looking right at them, a sneer adorning his features. Not wasting a moment, Blake pulled out her gun and took a shot at the fuse-box in the corner. The lights went out, and Blake wasted no time grabbing Sun and high-tailing it out one of the windows, glass raining down behind them.

* * *

"This is so boring," Ruby muttered, sitting on her position of a nearby rooftop. Her eye was looking down the sights of her rifle, but she couldn't exactly _see_ much. Not due to lighting or anything like that, but because _nothing was going on._ Sif growled in agreement, his head resting next to her legs. "At least it means Sun and Blake haven't been found out... we woulda' heard something," she thought, briefly turning to face Sif. "Hopefully the meeting is done soon, though..."

Man, tonight had been crazy! The only reason she was able to stay focused on keeping an eye on Blake's meeting point, and _not_ have her mind stuck on the fact that Penny was a freakin' _robot,_ was that she remembered the last time the White Fang had been involved with anything. Frowning, Ruby bit her lip. What they'd done to Blake... it was despicable. Things had been going great before that mess – everyone was getting along, mostly.

And Sibyl... he had nearly _died!_ Not to mention how many people he killed... but she wasn't _too_ upset about all that, even if she knew she should be.

"...Sibyl, he's a good guy, right Sif?"

The wolf breathed deeply for a few seconds before nodding softly. Well, that was good enough for Ruby.

Turning back to the scene of the crime, Ruby blinked. Because Sun and Blake had just jumped out of a window, and that meant things were going _not good._ Oh. A giant robot just crashed through a wall, chasing them. Definitely _not good_.

Sif howled, and Ruby didn't waste a second to throw herself on his backside as the wolf leapt from the roof, following the escaping Sun and Blake. A moment later, her Scroll went off, with Blake and Sun requesting backup.

Well, backup was on the way!

* * *

"Damnation! Quick, with haste," Sibyl growled, resisting the urge to crush the damn Scroll which had been the bearer of bad news. How were they going to catch them? Firstly, the people of this world were as quick as damn Ornstein was, and while his Aura being unlocked had also increased Sibyl's own speed, it was nowhere near as good as everyone else's.

He was given little more time to think when Weiss grabbed his hand, pulling him in close and up against her.

"C'mon. We don't have time to waste," she muttered, face oddly red. Must have been the adrenaline pumping. A second later, and Weiss was sending them flying forward with the help of her glyphs. Incredible things, those. They would have been useful in damn near any situation he could think of.

They caught up much more quickly than he'd expected them to, to be honest. Evidently, the two were not as far as he had expected them to be. They were on some overhang, cars flying past them every which way. And, down below, albeit far away at the moment, he could see Blake and Sun being chased by a giant machine-man.

"I've got a plan," Weiss informed, eyes steeling with a glint of determination. Sibyl nodded, waiting for her to explain further. "...mount him with that spear of yours. Don't worry about the rest."

"It will be done!" Laughing, Sibyl approached the edge, a grin adorning his unseen-lips. Weiss had rushed backwards to the other-side of the overhang, and Blake passed them by – Sun and Neptune had been discarded, it seemed, though hopefully they were well. Well, here goes nothing. Leaping off with a roar of triumph, he brought his spear down right upon its shoulder joint. The spear went deep, and Sibyl was glad it was made by such a strong soul and skilled blacksmith, or perhaps his weight would have snapped it in half.

...well, he was now stuck on its shoulder. Weiss had said not to worry about anything. What was she doing, anyhow? Turning his head to face where she should have jumped off, he grinned at seeing the sheet of ice which now covered the ground. A remarkable plan! Except, well... _he_ was on top of the thing.

Sibyl cursed as the metal machine beneath him _slipped,_ rolling and falling off the side of the overhang. He did his best to hang on, but the rough landing ended up dislodging Ornstein's spear _and_ him with it.

He landed in a heap, bouncing and skipping along the ground, before finally managing to stop himself with his foot dragging along the ground, not managing to calmly stab the tip of the gigantic spear to slow him down better. When his head finished ringing and he took a glance around, he found Ruby, Yang, Blake, Weiss _and_ Sif. The machine had risen back to its feet, and he only now noticed _just_ how many weapons it had attached. Sibyl prepared to take command, to give those around him a plan – but then Ruby spoke.

"Freezerburn!"

Blinking, because that word had _no_ meaning to him, the Chosen Undead watched as Yang and Weiss leapt into action, the latter creating another ice sheet and the former smashing it; the air around them was covering in a thick mist, and the group scattered. An impressive maneuver, especially to have it ready in advance. Sibyl whistled for Sif, leaping on the wolf and dodging some sort of explosive blast at his person.

"Are you ready, dear friend?" Sif growled, and Sibyl laughed, the mech's weapons immediately coming down at his position. Sif did not dodge _aside;_ no, instead he rushed straight at the mech, his sword in his mouth. Sibyl readied his spear as if jousting, aiming for a joint on the lower leg. His spear lodged in, perhapsa bit _too_ well. He found his body flung from Sif as it got stuck, the wolf rushing by and retreating back into cover. Putting his feet up against the metal legs of the machine as its guns turned to point at his face point-blank, he kicked off, landing with a roll and trying to take off-

A blast at his feet sent him flying, landing in a disgruntled heap.

"Checkmate!" Ruby's voice called out.

Recovering back to his feet and ignoring the ringing of his head, Sibyl turned and watched what their next combination attack would be. Blake and Weiss rushed forward, slashing and attacking in a masterful combination and acrobatic display. He whistled in appreciation, though quickly shook himself from his marvel and grabbed his catalyst.

Preparing a Soul Spear, he fired _just_ as Blake was pulled out from beneath the thing's foot by Weiss. His Soul Spear flew true, striking the glass where Roman Torchwick sit behind. Unfortunately, it only cracked the window, and Sibyl growled as he watched Weiss get thrown back by an explosive shot. Next, the machine shot _missiles,_ as he recalled them being called. A few tracked him, but most went towards Blake, who glowed an odd gold at the moment.

Casting Homing Soulmass as three of the missiles rushed towards him, the soul magic went forward and met them, albeit a _bit_ closer to him than he would have liked. As Ruby and Blake continued to attack the legs, Sif joined them, his sword strikes both precise and powerful. As the two girls leaped high into the sky and came down on one of the arms, Sif leaped high, striking with his own blade a mere moment before the two girls would have. Combined, the three dislodged the arm entirely.

Sibyl, however, was quick to grab Weiss and get her to furnish her catalyst as Yang was _smacked_ aside. The Schnee Heiress gasped in concern, but Sibyl refocused her. They stood side by side, and Sibyl wrapped his hand around hers while his other hand held up his catalyst. "I will help you channel, but it is time for you to cast Soul Spear."

Weiss gave him a wide-eyed, disbelieving look. "W-What? I'm, I'm nowhere near ready for that! I just got Great Soul Arrow down! We're not-"

He leaned in close, though his helmet separated the two. "Weiss. You are strong and bright, far brighter than I. I would not ask this if I didn't believe you could do it. Besides, I will guide you."

She searched his eyes for any lies, but found none. Nodding, she took a deep breath. As Sibyl helped guide her soul magic to the proper form, he conjured his own Crystal Soul Spear as Yang _shattered_ the machine's other arm with but a single punch. Their magical casts, oddly, formed together; his Crystal Soul Spear combined with Weiss's own regular Soul Spear.

It resulted in the single largest, most powerful chant he'd ever seen. It was double the size of the largest Soul Spear he'd ever seen Master Logan cast, and the _screeching_ sound their cast made was enough to stop everyone in their tracks. "Yang, blind it!" He screamed, as his and Weiss's magical cast slammed into the chest of the machine, shattering with a sound louder than the mightiest of dragon roars. The machine stumbled backwards, its breast-plate blown out, but it was _still_ technically working.

Yang, having heard his words, quickly threw a fireball up at the glass window, the fire spreading out over the window for a brief moment. Meanwhile, Blake and Ruby worked together for one final strike at its left knee joint; the leg coming clean off, and the machine began to stumble to the ground. Yang reared back one fist, smashing it in the center where Weiss and Sibyl had softened it up. The giant machine came apart _everywhere,_ and Roman Torchwick was left rolling on the ground.

Ruby was quick to fire at him, but some _girl_ with the oddest hair he'd ever seen suddenly appeared in front, blocking the attack with an umbrella of all things.

"Ladies, Ice Queen, Mr. _Chosen,"_ Roman taunted as he sauntered beside the girl, who moved her umbrella to rest on her shoulder. Sibyl sneered, grabbing his spear and leaping atop Sif. The wolf needed no invitation to charge forward.

"It's been a pleasure," Roman bowed as Sibyl's spear slammed into the girl's umbrella. The Undead prepared for a continued fight, but instead, the two shattered into glass. Sif skidded to a stop and Sibyl cursed, leaping off the wolf and slamming the bottom of his spear onto the ground.

"Damn it! Sif, can you pick up any trail?"

The wolf growled softly and shook his head. Sibyl gave one of the glass pieces on the ground a strong kick, shattering it further.

"Who was that girl?" Ruby asked aloud, and Sibyl had as little idea as she did.

"I don't know, but she really made our plans... fall apart?" Weiss observed, her lips cracking a smile.

Sibyl couldn't help it; he chuckled. Despite the worst of things... well, at least some good had come of this.

As police sirens sounded in the distance, he wondered just how true that was.


	15. A Night to Remember

_**Author's Note: Well, I felt really bad about it taking so long to get the last chapter posted, that I ironed this one out in a four days! It came really easily, probably because I've been wanting to write this portion of the story for about as long as I've wanted to write the Faunus-reveal arc with Adam and what not. More notes at the bottom, to address some few inevitable questions!**_

 _ **Edit: Now beta'd!**_

* * *

Sibyl had seen a lot of different fighting styles in his day. From bumbling hollows who were hardly trained in a previous life, to the knights of Berenike and Black Knights who wandered all around Lordran. That's not even mentioning the legends he had faced, like Ornstein and Artorias. Among _all_ of them, he had never seen anyone fight quite like Pyrrha.

She was simply incredible, so much so he wasn't entirely sure he'd actually be able to beat her. At the very least, if the two were to fight, their battle would push him to use his entire arsenal. Maybe that was why Glynda refused to match the two up… actually, now that he thought about it, it might be _precisely_ because of that.

Well, anyways: Sibyl considered himself a battering ram. He was strong, had fortitude to spare, and more than enough firepower to knock down anyone in his way – literally. His movements were mechanical and powerful, every attack thrown with force and precision. It was a style well-proven to be very effective, but it wasn't elegant. It was nothing like what he was watching, which he could only liken to a deadly dance.

Flips, one-handed handstands which turned into spiraling somersaults, among other things, all combined to give Pyrrha agility and flexibility which would have anyone flush with envy. It actually made him a bit miffed; if anyone was entitled to be the Chosen Undead, it was her. She was strong-hearted, more than able in combat, and had a muscular, chiseled beauty which would have had Gwynevere herself take a second glance. If she had been the Chosen Undead, her mission would have ended in two days, and not continue to trudge on seemingly forever, as his did.

Sibyl released a long, heavy sigh of admiration. She was special, and he quite liked her. He'd been able to admit that to himself for a long time, but to say it _to_ her? It was a daunting task, right up there with facing Manus. Still, as he leaned against the railings in front of him, he continued to stare intently. Just then, she slid around an attack, leapt forward over her foe's back and threw her shield, which hit the boy she'd just jumped over inthe back and deflected to slam into the chest of the one who sought to ambush her from behind.

" _Incredible,"_ he whispered. And truly, she was. The boys she fought against were no slouches either; not to say they were _good_ ,or that _he_ would have had trouble with them, but they were good enough. Better than a few armed hollows, but less than one silver knight.

It was hard to believe he was the _only_ one standing to watch her move and fight. The others stayed seated, even the closest of his friends. Jaune almost looked bored… gah, what a fool. He was becoming better with his sword and shield, thanks to Pyrrha and himself overseeing his training, but the blonde was a far cry from 'good', and should have been watching with a closer eye.

As Cardin and his team found themselves all on the ground, breathing hard and unable to continue, Glynda called the match. Sibyl clapped in appreciation, uncaring he was the only one to do so. Pyrrha took the praise Glynda gave her with a smile and a humble thanks.

Then, the glasses-wearing blonde took to the stand, "Now, I know that's an intimidating act to follow, but we have time for one more sparring match. Any volunteers?"

No one spoke for a few moments, and as Glynda opened her mouth to speak more, perhaps to pick a student herself, however unwilling, she was interrupted.

"I'll do it," a silver-haired fellow called out, raising a hand. Glynda nodded in appreciation, looking at her Scroll and adjusting a few things. "Mercury, was it? Excellent, I'll find you an opponent…"

"Actually," the boy cut in, "I wanna' fight _her,"_ he explained, pointing at Pyrrha with an outstretched finger. The girl looked decidedly confused, so Sibyl took the opportunity to interject with a booming laugh. He walked up to Mercury and grabbed him on the shoulder in an unfriendly manner, squeezing tightly.

"No, I think not. We shall fight. Pyrrha had her turn to make a fine showing – and she did – so let us make our own impression, hmm?"

The boy looked like he wanted to say something, but when Sibyl squeezed harder, he relented. "Y-Yeah, sure!"

As he let go of his shoulder, Sibyl gave a small glare before vaulting over the railing, landing in a crouch. He had his preferred gear ready today, having suspected Glynda might call him to fight. Covering his body was a knight set native to Astora, a silent homage to his first comrade. His head was bare; the only thing he had covering was an eyepatch and a mask, pulled up to cover his lower face. The mask did a remarkable job hiding the veins of his infection, and with the eyepatch, none could tell anything. At his hip was a sheathe, and within it was a long katana, the Laito, which he had found on the walkways of Blight Town so long ago.

Taking his position near the middle of the arena, he waited until Mercury was in the correct position to drop into a ready stance, one hand resting on the handle of his blade. His opponent settled into a rough boxer's stance, similar to what he'd seen Andre do. Still, his arms looked weak and unmuscular; it had to be a feint.

As was customary, they were to begin whenever they felt ready. And Sibyl? He was ready. Channeling a brief bout of pyromancy, he slammed it into his chest, casting Power Within and feeling his soul begin to drain – albeit temporarily. A moment thereafter, his senses seemed to sharpen, and as his eyes glanced forward, he blinked, because Mercury's hair was pink for some reason.

It must have been a trick of the light, because when he looked again, it had returned to its silver gleam.

Mercury had taken his hesitance as a sign to charge, and as Sibyl finished his enchantment, he drew his blade quickly and blocked a kick meant for his head; his opponent shifted his weight, throwing a counter kick which was blocked with Sibyl's own armguard.

Ramming his shoulder forward, Mercury was launched back quite some ways. Sibyl did not let up, instead charging with his blade held high but pointed straight. As he got closer, he slashed diagonally, quickly being forced to bring it back to deflect a strike. The undead stepped back, leaning back to avoid a kick before being made to roll further backwards, avoiding the heel which was meant for his throat.

As he came out of his roll, he spun and held his free hand forward, palm open. Mercury had decided to try and press him out of his roll, but hadn't accounted, or expected, a Great Combustion cast to launch him backwards. As the silver-haired teen adjusted himself in midair, Sibyl grabbed the throwing knife at his waist and tossed it.

Mercury caught it by the handles when the blade was mere inches from his face, sneering, before tossing it back with just as much force and accuracy. Taking an easy step aside, Sibyl charged forward once again, this time with his blade held low and pointed behind his body, just inches from the ground. As he got within striking distance, he slashed upwards diagonally, which only served to rip some of Mercury's clothes. Not wasting a moment, Sibyl turned his wrist and brought his blade striking horizontally at his foe's chest.

The strike was blocked with the teen's foot. Sibyl, wasting no time, stepped forward and kicked out Mercury's other foot, sending the teen stumbling backwards onto the ground. Conjuring a fireball while Mercury was still off-balance, he tossed it.

His opponent twisted back up to his feet, managing to avoid the worst of the explosion with only some singed hair to show for his trouble.

Sibyl barely had time to blink before Mercury was upon him, striking with rapid series of kicks that the undead did his damn best to parry or block. The assault showed no time of ending soon, though what kicks did make it through Sibyl's guard only clattered against his chest plate. Grunting as two combination attacks made him stumble, Sibyl received a solid blow to his head which sent him crashing a bit back onto the ground.

Of course, he was not without a plan. When his hand touched the ground, pillars of flame shot up all around him; Mercury was caught unaware, and sent flying up into the air, slamming with a sickening thud on the ground. Sibyl had pounced atop of him before he could recover, pinning him and keeping his blade inches from his neck.

It had been a brief bout, but the undead was able to admit Mercury was _good._ Not good enough, but the boy was good. As Glynda called the match, Sibyl rose back to his feet, offering a hand for his opponent to take. He did it begrudgingly, though the teen did smirk when he finally got back to his feet. "You're not too bad. Was hoping to take on the invincible girl… but that was fun."

Sibyl smacked him on the back, pausing to crack his own neck briefly. "And to you as well. I thought you a mindless boaster, but perhaps you'd be able to give Pyrrha a decent battle. Still, better to do that when she _hasn't_ just fought in a bout, hmm?"

The silver-haired teen nodded, and Glynda sounded off with a few words of congratulations and advice for the both of them. It wasn't too long until the two had separated, and Sibyl returned to the stands with his friends.

"Excellent fight, Sibyl," Weiss greeted, messing with her hair for some reason, "that hooligan was a bit better than I expected."

The undead nodded in agreement, rubbing his head where he'd been struck. The man's legs struck like metal, or, more literally, he had hidden some armor on beneath those pants of his. He _had_ been impressive, and Sibyl was reminded everyone in this world was a very battle-ready combatant.

Well, it was hardly any matter. He was quite good as well. Their bout was over, and the Chosen Undead had enjoyed it.

" _Do not forget,"_ Glynda's voice sounded off, "the dance is this weekend, but on Monday, you all will get your first mission. I will accept _no_ excuses, understood?"

The class sounded off with a few murmurs of "Yes, ma'am," but Sibyl just tilted his head.

They were having a dance this weekend? Like, a… ball, with music and well-dressed attire? He certainly hoped he wasn't going to be forced to go, although… his eyes drifted to Pyrrha, and he lost himself for a few moments imagining her in a nice dress.

Perhaps there _was_ something of interest to be had in this dance.

As team RWBY and the rest of the class filtered out of the arena, he followed along, lost in his own thoughts. Weiss stayed walking by his side, decidedly quiet. Things had been so crazy lately, it was somewhat odd to be getting back into a normal routine. He half expected a damn Grimm Dragon to fly through the ceiling and try roasting him alive.

It might have even been fun to deal with, though without Gough to ground the dragon, he might have a decidedly bad time.

Before he could think anymore, he found Sun walking alongside him.

"Hey, Sibyl!" The monkey Faunus greeted happily, before leaning in closer, "I'm thinking about asking Blake to that dance… you think I've got a shot?"

The undead rubbed his chin, giving his eccentric friend a long look. "I would say so."

Weiss opened her mouth to say something, but promptly closed it, instead looking away. Sun laughed and smiled confidently, slabbing Sibyl on his shoulder cauldron before skipping off ahead to catch up to Blake.

"A dance, hmm?" Sibyl wondered aloud, turning to Weiss. "I've never been to one. Only really heard about them second-hand, mostly from Logan, and he never talked about them in an excited way."

Weiss stuttered in her steps for only a moment, and he raised a brow before shaking it off.

"They're… pleasant. Me and Yang have been planning this one, actually, since team CFVY's away mission has lasted longer than expected. Of course, most people don't go to a dance alone – usually they go in couples," she explained patiently, and the undead nodded along. It made enough sense; most dances he'd heard of required two people.

"A romantic endeavor, then. Well, I doubt that's any place for me, but I will certainly go to see the fine planning you and Yang undoubtedly put in," he explained, and it was true enough. Sure, a small part of him thought of asking Pyrrha, but why would she choose him? She would have boys falling over themselves to get her to go; why choose a scar-riddled undead?

"It'll certainly be nice," Weiss mentioned as she and Sibyl got closer to the rest of their group.

There was a certain underlying tone in her voice, but Sibyl failed to unearth the reason for it, no matter how hard he rocked his mind.

Sibyl got to watch as Sun asked Blake to accompany him to the dance, and he smiled lightly.

Of course, then Blake spoke. "I don't know, Sun. We… we need to keep investigating the White Fang. I don't think we have _time_ to enjoy some dance," she explained, her voice grave.

Blake was needlessly stressed, and he was a bit unsure as to why. Maybe it was because he was used to being stressed, and he had finally learned rushing things helped no one, but Sibyl felt it was his responsibility to step in and resolved this matter. Blake deserved to _enjoy_ her life a bit, after all which had happened.

"Blake, I feel it prudent to say, we've investigated all we can.I understand the need to be proactive, but sometimes, simply the knowledge that something _will_ happen can be enough. We will remain vigilant, and when signs point to them making their move, we will all strike, together and as a unit."

He came in beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder and giving a soft smile. "So, stop with this needless stress. If not, I'll be forced to tell Glynda to match me and you up in combat class, so I can _beat_ it out of you."

Blake stared at the ground for a moment, reaching up and running a hand through her hair before nodding, giving him a soft smile.

"You're right. Of course, you're right – we've done a lot to slow them down… one weekend to enjoy ourselves won't hurt, right?"

The undead nodded. "Exactly that."

Sun slowly walked forward again, a hopeful look in his eyes. "So…?" Blake shook her head, giving a small smile before speaking.

"I'd be happy to, Sun."

The Faunus nearly whooped in joy before realizing his date was _right_ in front of him. Instead, he coughed, speaking so fast Sibyl could hardly understand _what_ he said, before rushing off around the corner to the arena.

"She said yes, dude!" Sun nearly yelled, presumably to Neptune, and Sibyl palmed his face, though it was hard to stop his smirk from forming. They all needed this stress relief, and he was glad Blake had seen it so. Besides, Sun was a fine fellow, though he might need to be a bit firm with him on just what he was allowed to do on this date with Blake.

Whistling loudly, Sibyl waited a few moments before Sif came _rushing_ at max speed towards them, skidding to a stop just in front. The undead turned to the rest of his group, seeing their odd looks. "Me and Sif are going to train some, I'll see you all tonight, presumably."

* * *

"So, how did your bout go?" Cinder asked, leaning back on her bed while Chester sat aside her.

Mercury briefly put the comic book he was reading down, blowing some air up into his face. "Well, Chester wasn't lying. Sibyl's good. _Really_ good. I'd been hoping to fight that 'Pyrrha' girl, mostly because we already _know_ a lot about the undead, but yeah. I got caught up in that pyromancy near the end of the fight, and while he was good with that katana, I can tell it's not what he usually uses."

Chester chuckled, figuring he ought to explain a few things, "He has something of an eccentricity for trying every single weapon he comes across. Unfortunately, when times get tough, he falls back to his personal favorites."

Cinder slowly reached over with one hand, resting it on his thigh. She _enjoyed_ having the undead around, but if he ever jeopardized their plans, he knew punishment would be coming. "Emerald, did you test your Semblance on him during the fight?"

The girl in question nodded. "Yeah. It was nothing major, but it worked."

"Excellent," Chester declared, sitting up a bit straighter on her bed. "I'd worried he might have _something_ to stop it from working, but it seems we're in the clear."

Emerald opened her mouth to say something but chose to close it at the last second

Cinder felt herself glower; the girl, while useful, could be decidedly irritating. "Emerald, if you have something to say, _speak."_

"O-Of course, Cinder. Well, I was just wondering… why are we waiting to send him away? Why not just do it _now?"_

"Because the undead isn't an idiot," Chester explained, bored. Cinder didn't like allowing people to talk on her behalf, but she'd allow it this time. Chester was their resident expert on all things Lordran-related. "If just after I've arrived, he _discovers_ his friends only became friends thanks to Ozpin, he'll be suspicious. Oh, he'd believe it, but things wouldn't add up _just_ right in that deranged head of his. We need him to settle down, get comfortable. Why, I've seen the way that 'Schnee' girl looks at him; we might be able to use that to hurt him the most and drive him off."

"Man, I hate waiting," Mercury muttered, laying back onto the ground and grabbing his comic book.

Cinder didn't disagree, but patience was important for what they had planned. Overthrowing the powers which be, _including_ the so-called Queen of the Grimm, took time. And that time was almost upon them.

* * *

Right, well, Sibyl had lied. He and Sif had _not_ been going off to train. Well, they _had_ been planning on it, somewhat, but then Sibyl's mind just kept racing with the possibilities. He felt somewhat bad about it, but the past was in the past – there was no use in worrying about it. So, now he was left pacing in the courtyard, Sif sitting patiently nearby.

"I just… it's _me_ , Sif! I am a damned undead, my body is marred with scars, and my list of atrocities number in the uncountable." The undead sighed, running a hand through his hair. "And she's… she's incredible. Fierce, strong, powerful… kind and gentle, too."

Losing his steam, Sibyl sat down next to the fountain, resting his hands on his knees.

"And, if I truly intend to return to Lordran, it would be selfish to try and start anything, wouldn't it?" He sat up a bit straighter, turning to glance at the wolf. "Perhaps I'm not even feeling anything true – maybe I'm simply looking for an excuse to _not_ return to Lordran. Every passing day, my resolve weakens, dear friend. And I wonder… what if I did stay?"

It was a curious question. He could envision a life here; sure, he would never be… up to snuff, technologically speaking, with the others, but he had his own qualities which translated well to this world, most notably being his combat prowess and magics. He'd even stopped thinking of Lordran as his home, with good reason. What was a home without family? And his family in Lordran… they were long gone.

But he had found a new family here. A family who didn't understand everything, sure, but they tried. From Glynda to Ruby, they all made him smile. They cared for him, and he for them. Maybe… maybe Lordran wasn't the answer anymore.

He could save children and families from separation for a hundred years if he cast himself into the Flame, but what about the thereafter? Whereas, if he stayed here, spread his knowledge, he could maybe even stop the Grimm entirely! Especially since they were rooted in the Abyss, and he had long ago sworn to fight that corrupting darkness wherever he found it.

Gods, his head hurt. Things had been so much easier when his only worry was the next demon he had to kill. Sif rested his head in Sibyl's lap, and the undead gave him a few firm pets. It helped sooth his mind, the absent motion.

"Perhaps I will ask her tonight. I'll… force myself in on her training session with Jaune, and once the blonde boy departs, it'll be my opportunity. I best not squander it," he declared, standing up with a stretch.

* * *

Yang was bored, which was a bit odd, because she was planning a _dance_ for the entire school. But it was night time now, and her and Weiss had been sorta'–but-not-really arguing all day about decorations and whatnot. They agreed, disagreed, yada-yada, and finally, night had come, so she retired to her room. Tomorrow, they'd do most of the actual setting-up, and then that night, the dance would begin.

There wasn't much use in staying up any later tonight.

Of course, Blake and Ruby were already asleep by the time she got back to her room. And she was glad for that – Blake needed to get some damn sleep. It was a good thing the cat Faunus listened to Sibyl, because otherwise Yang would have been forced to drag her away and give her a separate talk. Ruby… well, suffice to say, if Blake hadn't been talked into going to the dance, Ruby would have been a complete mess, too.

Sometimes, Yang felt her sister took the whole 'team leader' thing a bit too seriously, but it was also endearing to see her sister cared so much.

She still wasn't sure why Sibyl had run off so quickly after his fight with that 'Mercury' kid. She'd been thinking of asking him to the dance, honestly. He was pretty good looking, and always a fun guy to be around when he wasn't, ya' know, getting captured by the White Fang and going crazy. It was hard to say how she felt about him; she wasn't in _love_ or some nonsense like that, but she liked being around him. That had to amount for something, right?

If nothing else, it would be a fun little fling. Yang wasn't really ready to settle in with someone anyways, but a good night wasn't out of the question. As a yawn escaped the blonde vixen's lips, the door to their room jiggled, and in walked Weiss. The Schnee heiress blinked upon seeing Yang awake, quickly wiping something away at her eyes.

That set off the first alarm bell in Yang's head, and she immediately sat up straight. "Weiss, you okay?" She questioned, walking closer to the rich girl.

Weiss tried to wave her off, but when she realized it wasn't going to work, the Schnee slumped.

"Not really," Weiss conceded, voice forlorn as she glanced around the room at their sleeping partners. "Yang, you're… you might be able to help, but I don't want to wake up the others."

Nodding, Yang followed the heiress outside the door, closing it behind them before turning to her sister's partner more seriously. "So, what's up, Weiss? Did someone make you cry, because whoever it is, I'll break thei-"

"No, no! Nothing like that," Weiss insisted, stopping the brawler before she could really get going. "It's… the dance," she mentioned, rubbing at the back of her hand. A fairly common nervous tick for her, but why? They were just planning a school danc-

Yang only _just_ stopped herself from telling the Heiress to stop worrying about it, because her mind registered it might not be about the damn decorations.

This might be a code red: this might be about a _boy._

"You're… you're prettier than me," Weiss admitted, looking down ashamed. Yang blinked at _that_ claim, because it was completely off basis. Weiss was beautiful! Absolutely stunning, in that sort of royal-way. "You've got more… _there,"_ the Schnee gestured roughly to her chest, "and you definitely have more experience with guys than I do. The only people who were ever interested in me were suitors, boys after my last name, not after _me."_

 _Shit_. This was serious; Weiss was really opening up. It wasn't something the blonde had exactly expected,given her and Weiss, while getting along, weren't the closest. Still, if Weiss was going to open up, then Yang would do her best to channel her inner-big-sister. "Weiss, listen, _you're_ beautiful. Who cares you're a bit on the smaller side? And any boy who comes chasing after you for your lastname, just point _me_ at them. I'll make sure they never come for you again."

Weiss smiled timidly but shook her head. "Thank you, but it's not like that. Well, the dance, it's this weekend. And… there's someone I've had my eyes set on, but I can hardly get his attention." Yang grit her teeth – what absolute idiot was ignoring someone like Weiss? "And there's someone else he keeps staring at… and I wonder, how can I compete with that?"

Yang closed her eyes, thinking on what to say for a few seconds. There was a lot on her mind; first off, _no one_ should have Weiss doubting if she could compete with them. The girl was stunning, good in a fight, and intelligent. Weiss should _never_ doubt herself.

She could have said so aloud, but Yang wanted to settle this a bit more… personally. "…can you just tell me who it is? It might make this easier," Yang asked, internally ready to figure out whatever boy it was which had Weiss such a mess, pin him to a wall, and make him piss himself.

The white-haired beauty took a long breath, struggling with what she was about to say before finally spitting it out in one quick breath. "It's Sibyl," she declared, and Yang blinked. Had she just said _Sibyl_? "It's Sibyl, God, it's Sibyl!" Weiss exclaimed, beginning to pace back and forth.

"It's… Fireball?" Yang wondered aloud, her previous plan on pinning him to a wall going out the window. He would not take kindly to that, and secondly, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to actually _do_ so.

Weiss nodded, pausing briefly in her rapid steps to gather her thoughts. "Yes, yes. It's… it's not like I was attracted to him when I first met him; he was pleasant to talk to, but not much else. But, Yang, the more and more time I spend around him, as he taught me and Glynda, I just… he's incredible!" The girl sighed, playing with the hem of her skirt.

Yang's eyes widened. Weiss was acting like some fourteen-year-old who was head-over-heels for someone. It was so _unlike_ the Ice Queen the blonde almost wondered if she was dreaming. Of course, if anyone would be able to break that cold exterior and leave Weiss a mess like this, it was _definitely_ Fireball.

"He's so patient," Weiss explained, her hands gesturing as she sought to get her point across, "so… so _unlike_ my father and family. He's warm and kind, and I'm so… unused to that. It was pleasant, when he'd congratulate me for managing a simple Soul Arrow. When he hugged me in joy when I got Homing Soulmass down so quickly… I hadn't been hugged in years,Yang! _Years_!"

 _That_ was depressing, but Yang kept the thought to herself.

Weiss took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I kept lying to myself, writing him off, but when I inadvertently got him captured by the Fang, when I wasn't sure if he'd ever _wake up,"_ she whispered, hugging herself, "I realized I _like_ Sibyl. He makes me feel safe; he makes me _laugh,_ and he just… he's Sibyl."

That was definitely one way to describe Fireball.

Slumping, Weiss finally met Yang's eyes. "But he likes Pyrrha. I see it in the way he stares at her, and he hardly gives me a second glance! And I can hardly blame him – Pyrrha's wonderful. _Too_ wonderful."

The girl stilled, not saying anything more for a few moments. "And of course, I have _Jaune_ falling over himself to try and get with me. He just won't take a hint, and I… I don't know what to do."

Yeah, well… Weiss wasn't the only one. But Yang was going to do her best to create a happy couple.

"Alright, now let me explain a few things about Fireball…"

* * *

Sibyl watched as Pyrrha deflected a swing of the blonde's blade before going down, kicking out Jaune's legs and leaving him flat on the ground. "Keep a firmer stance," the undead instructed, not quite liking _just_ how easily the boy had his feet get kicked out from under him. Pyrrha was left laughing as Jaune was butt on the floor, and the girl walked forward and offering a hand.

"Well done. Your swordplay has improved immensely," Pyrrha congratulated as Jaune got back to his feet, the boy taking time to dust himself off.

"Well, couldn't have done it without ya'."

Sibyl rolled his eyes at that, but it was no less true. Jaune would truly be a helpless case without Pyrrha's fine instructing hand. Sibyl being here was mostly a formality, anyways, though he had helped Pyrrha to take less of the 'doting mother'approach and more the role of a peer-slash-teacher.

"So, are you ready to move on to Aura?" The redhead questioned, eager to keep helping her partner. A kind gesture, for sure.

Jaune looked away, moving to rub the back of his head. "I was actually thinking… maybe we just skip Aura tonight. Why don't we go, uh, jog or something?"

"I know you get frustrated, but you must keep trying," Pyrrha insisted, beckoning the boy to keep training on his Aura. Sibyl almost interrupted, mostly just wanting the boy to _go_ so he could speak with the redhead, but it didn't work out. "We'll discover your Semblance any day now. I'm sure of it."

"That's… that's not it. It's dumb, really-" Jaune tried to speak, but Pyrrha moved forward, tapping the boy on his breastplate.

"Jaune, you know you can tell me," she informed, and Sibyl couldn't help but feel like he was intruding.

So, he turned away, staring out to the city in the distance with an inquisitive gaze He overheard some of the conversation between the two partners, but he did his best to respectfully tune it out. It was something about Weiss and the dance; given Jaune's infatuation with his student, he pieced things together well enough without having to listen in.

Eventually, the blonde boy dismissed himself, and Sibyl said nothing as Pyrrha wandered over to him, standing beside him and looking out towards the city.

"Sibyl," Pyrrha began, voice far too sad at the moment, "can I ask you something?"

He turned his head, nodding politely. Pyrrha was quick to continue, "I… I don't know how to get Jaune's attention," it came out in a whisper, but he could hear the hurt in it. Not that he understood why immediately – could she not just ask for it? He was her partner, after all.

"He's so obsessed with Weiss, I feel like he can't see what's directly in front of him!"

Sibyl raised a brow, opening his mouth to say something, but eventually pausing. His mind was connecting the dots, albeit slowly.

Eventually, he spoke words he dreaded to hear coming from his own mouth. "Pyrrha, do you… like Jaune?"

The red-head's face briefly matched her hair, but she nodded, staring at him with her emerald green eyes.

"I do. I've liked him for a long time, but he's so… _dense!_ He sees himself as so weak, acts like I'm out of his league when we're partners!" The girl sighed, losing her brief bout of anger.

Sibyl felt his will steel over. No, he steeled _himself_.

Pyrrha liked Jaune. What else should he have been expecting? And yet, here he was, left with a perfect opportunity. The chance to pounce upon vulnerable feelings, to let Pyrrha know she wasbeautiful, that she was kind, and strong, and so many different things he'd have trouble listing them all. He could tell her that now, ask her to the dance. She might even say yes.

But it was clear her thoughts weren't on him, and she did not deserve to settle for a second-place prize like himself. And so, Sibyl did what he'd done since he first left the Asylum. He presented himself as the Chosen Undead, a young man of unwavering confidence and wisdom. He stood up straighter and showed himself as a young man without problems.

"Pyrrha, you are beautiful, strong, and wise. Jaune… he _is_ dense, weak, and still a _boy._ You cannot sit here, waiting for him to take the first step. Jaune hardly knows how to swing a sword, much less approach a woman." Sibyl paused, turning to her. "And you are a fine woman. A _champion of Mistral_ ,no? So, tell me, Pyrrha. Why do you stand here before me? Why aren't you fighting the most important battle you will _ever_ fight? Why are you waiting for such a battle to _come to you?"_

"But Jaune, he likes Weiss-"

Sibyl held up a hand, stopping the redhead before she could utter any more words.

"Jaune does not like Weiss. He hardly _knows_ Weiss." That's an interesting parallel with himself and Pyrrha, now that he thought about it. The undead chuckled softly, doing so to mask his own pain. "Jaune does like _you,_ however. As a team leader, as a friend, and I'm sure, once you reveal your true feelings, he will like you as something more."

Pyrrha smiled, but there was still doubt in her eyes. "You… you really think so?"

He nodded resolutely, and as Pyrrha stepped forward to give him a hug, he bit his lip.

"Thank you, Sibyl. You're as fine a friend as anyone could ask for," she declared, standing up a bit straighter. She stood like the champion she was, not some meek little girl. And as she walked off, swagger back in her step and determination in her eyes, Sibyl turned his gaze back to the city.

She missed Sibyl wincing in pain at the word 'friend', fortunately or unfortunately.

It was times like these he wondered just how old he was. Time flowed oddly in Lordran, for sure, but sometimes, his mind felt as if he were eighty. Perhaps it was all the souls he had absorbed… or maybe he had simply been _made_ to grow up.

Well, it hardly mattered. Sibyl pulled himself onto the railing, sitting down with a sigh. He conjured a flame in his hand, and together, they remained there until the sun rose.

* * *

The dance would begin in a few hours, and that meant a few things. Firstly, it meant Yang was wearing a _rocking_ dress, and every pair of eyes were going to be following her around tonight. Hopefully they didn't stare too long at her rear or chest, because then it might get a bit violent. Secondly, it meant that all the couples were being established, and soon enough, they'd all be on the floor and dancing together.

All the couples, _except for one_.And that was why Yang was roaming around the campus, trying, and mostly failing, to find Sibyl. Because after the pep-talk she had given Weiss last night, mostly about how Sibyl was a _guy_ and he was also not very good with people, so interacting with women may as well have been a different language to him, Weiss had been all perked up and ready to speak with him.

Sure, a girl asking a guy to a dance was a bit unorthodox, but so was the idea of Sibyl and Weiss getting together. Though, the more she thought about it, the more she came to like it. It made her ashamed that she'd almost been ready to ask Sibyl to the dance _on a whim._ Weiss was over here, stressing like a mad-woman, meanwhile Yang was shrugging and thinking about the best eye-candy she would have been able to get for the night.

She was left feeling _really_ glad Sibyl had run off when he did earlier, otherwise he probably would have accepted her question, and Weiss would have been left a complete mess. Unfortunately, Weiss might be _left_ as a complete mess if she couldn't find Sibyl! And Yang was going to have to be at the dance, soon, to sign people in…

Dang it! "Still haven't found him?" Weiss questioned softly. She was dressed in her own beautiful white dress, and _ooh_ ,Yang could hardly wait to see her and Sibyl dancing later that same night! They were going to look so good together…

"Yang?" Blake questioned, Sun by her side and looking like the happiest guy in the world, "Still looking for Sibyl?"

The blonde nodded in annoyance.

Sun tilted his head, scratching his chin in confusion. "Don't you have, like, a built-in Sibyl-tracker with your fire?"

Yang rolled her eyes, prepared to dismiss Sun because of course she wouldn't have missed something as obvious as that – butthen she realized that _yes_ , she _did_ have a built-in Sibyl tracker. Palming her face while simultaneously holding up her other hand, she quickly conjured a flame while Blake laughed at her. Face red, Yang did her best to tune out the taunting, and blinked upon seeing where her flame was being pulled to.

It was pointing towards the arena. It would be just like Sibyl, too, to be fighting on a night like tonight. Turning towards Weiss, Yang gave a wink. "Well, looks like he's in the arena. Go get 'em, beautiful!"

Weiss blushed, messing with her own hair.

Blake raised an eyebrow, looking between Yang and Weiss for a few moments. "Weiss… you're going to ask Sibyl to the dance?"

The Schnee heiress did her best to give a dignified nod, but her face was flushed red like a tomato.

"Hell, yeah! Sibyl totally deserves someone as hot as you-" Sun grimaced in pain as Blake elbowed him in the abdomen, " _objectively_ speaking, though you're not really my type. I prefer grouchy black-haired girls."

Sun's eyes glanced down to the girl by his side, and when Blake gave a small smirk, Sun realized he was in the clear. Yang rolled her eyes – Monkey Boy had a lot to learn, but who better to teach him then Blake?

Weiss dismissed herself from the group, setting off to find the oaf of an undead she'd be calling her date later tonight.

Yang followed Weiss for a bit, just until they were out of hearing distance of the others. The Schnee heiress froze, turning back with worry in her face. "What if he says no, Yang? What if he-"

The blonde stopped her before she could say any other stupid nonsense. "He's going to say yes, Weiss. I guarantee it."

Taking a deep breath, Weiss nodded and flashed a tentative smile before setting off on her own.

Yang watched like a proud mama-bear. Man, she _was_ good.

* * *

Weiss walked slowly through the arena, trying to keep her own heartbeat down as the sound of fighting continued to get louder and louder. Eventually, she reached the upper stands, and as she gazed down below, she furrowed her brows.

Sibyl and Sif were fighting, but the former was bare-chested and had his eyepatch removed. If anyone else had walked in here, they would have been left with a lot of questions. But _she_ had walked in here, so it didn't matter. Besides, it wasn't… entirely unpleasant to look at. Sibyl, yes, he had a great many scars, but they told a lot of stories, and he was _definitely_ in shape.

He had a longsword in one hand and a shield in the other, and as Sif charged at him again, swinging his sword as he leapt, Sibyl redirected the blow with his own blade while trying to slam his shield into Sif; the wolf was quick, however, and pounced backwards, leaving Sibyl's shield only hitting the ground below.

The undead charged, striking rapidly as he got in range of Sif, but only managing to get one glancing blow. At one point, he overextended on an overhead swing, and Sif pounced forward, pinning him beneath his grip and ending the fight there.

It was very… _unlike_ Sibyl. He was more controlled when he fought, but that last swing had been a wild one. As Sif removed himself from atop Sibyl and the undead shook his head, getting back to his feet and readying for another round, Weiss cleared her throat.

She hadn't cleared it very loudly, but it felt as if the noise was deafening.

Sibyl, upon glancing over his shoulder and seeing her, had his eyes widen. "W-Weiss? Sorry, let me get a shirt back on-"

Weiss held up a hand, stopping him from scrambling to get dressed. "It's fine. I don't mind." And really, she didn't. Yang had been disgusted by his scars, but she was more interested in them. Just like the one permanently etched on her face, each scar was a lesson, a memory. And Sibyl… he clearly had learnt a lot.

Sibyl paused, only to shrug lightly and unsurely. "Well, if you're positive," he conceded, and Weiss nodded, carefully leaping over the railing and down into the arena with both her teacher and his wolf. Sibyl finally got a good look at her, scanning her from top to bottom before meeting her eyes. "You look quite beautiful," Sibyl complimented, awkwardly.

Weiss smiled at the words, but things went silent for a few moments after.

Eventually, Weiss spoke. "I thought you were going to the dance," she half-questioned.

Sibyl shook his head and scoffed at the words. "I had a revelation, as it were," the undead explained, sheathing his blade. "These… things, they're not for me. Parties, people, _relationships,"_ he uttered the last word in a whisper, and Weiss felt her heart tighten, "it's all just… not for me. I can admire them, sure, even seek them out, but at the end of the day, _look_ at me.

"I am a second-place prize at best. The dance above, it is meant for couples. I'd hardly feel right going there alone, and… who'd ask me?" The boy sighed, tracing a vein of the Abyss across his face. His other hand tightened into a fist, and Weiss couldn't help but frown.

"…I'd sought to ask Pyrrha, but she sees me only as a friend. Infatuated with that Jaune fellow, as it were. I'm just glad I was able to guide those two together, at least. It's best for everyone if I simply stay here, training my sword arm. Best not to sully a nice party with eye-patches and scars," he gritted out, turning to Sif and preparing to unsheathe his blade again.

Weiss frowned, not used to what she was hearing. It was like when she'd seen him lying in that bed, tubes connected to him and keeping him alive. Sibyl was supposed to be confident and strong, not self-doubting and weak.

"Is that really what you think?"

It hurt to push him on the matter, but perhaps he'd change his mind by the end of the night.

"It's the reality of the situation. It hardly matters what _I_ think."

Weiss sighed, shaking her head.

Before Sibyl and Sif went to clash again, she spoke. "Stop, turn around, and close your eyes."

Sibyl hesitated for only a moment, but he did sheathe his blade and turn around. His eyes shut, and a small smirk tugged at his lips. "About to make another promise, are you?"

Well, she _was_ going to, in a way. Still, as Sibyl stood there quietly and patiently, Weiss approached. Sif sat off to the side, watching with a tilted head. It nearly made her giggle, but she tried to stay focused. Eventually, she was inches from Sibyl. She put a hand to his chest, feeling the sweat covering his whole body. Her hand retracted, but a finger stayed connected to his chest, and began tracing a scar running up to his collarbone. Her hand slowly drifted up further, until she was touching his face.

She traced the lines of darkness on his face for a few moments, and even found herself staring at the splotch of Abyss covering one of them. As she traced one vein from his eye down to the base of his lip, she took a deep breath.

' _This is it.'_

Sibyl was standing there, still and confused, but his eyes still hadn't opened. Slowly, Weiss moved her hand around to grab at the back of his neck, pulling him down just _a little bit_ so his face was level with hers. And finally, she inched her face forward. Eventually, their lips met, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze.

Sibyl had opened his eyes, and Weiss might have laughed at seeing just how comically wide they were. But she paid no mind to that, because she was too busy focusing on the feel of his lip. Sweat still poured from him, but somehow, it didn't bother her. His lips, they were a bit dry, but not so much that it was unpleasant. With their faces so close together, she couldn't help but smell and take in that distinctively ashy aroma of his. It mixed in with the sweat and dirt covering his body, the result not something unpleasant to her nose.

It smelled _sexy_ , to be honest. Had she really just thought that? Well, it seemed she had.

After a few moments of staring, Weiss decided to force the kiss further – and, thankfully, Sibyl didn't resist. Weiss, well, she'd never really _kissed_ before, and she was inclined to think Sibyl hadn't either. It was a messy thing, but it felt so _right and good._ She wasn't sure if she should probe with her tongue or not, but eventually she did, and oh, _she was glad she did._

He returned it as best he could, which was with more passion than precision, but that was fine. It was everything she _dreamt of_ ,and yes, she had dreamt of it. Not enough to trigger any more… instinctive reactions, but certainly enough to leave her smiling and looking idiotic every morning since she first realized her attraction to him.

Her body melted into his, and strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer and protecting her. She barely noticed it these days, but Sibyl was _tall._ Tall and strong, with bulging muscles _everywhere,_ but not so much so that it was unsightly.

Eventually, though, Weiss felt the need to breathe, and so she slowly removed Sibyl's lips from her own. Her heart was pounding in her chest so loudly it was the only thing she could hear, outside of their mutual panting.

Sibyl… he looked so adorably confused. It was an expression she was unused to seeing on his face, but it was cute. He slowly reached up a hand, touching his lips as if in disbelief. He shook his head, regarding her as if she was insane. "Weiss?" He questioned, blinking a few times.

"…Yes?"

Sibyl opened his mouth to say something but struggled to actually say anything. Eventually, he settled for something not all that eloquent but very sweet. "That was… pleasant."

She smiled lightly, and he did the same. He just kept staring at her, eventually smirking lightly and laughing. She quickly joined in – his laughter was just infectious.

When their combined laughter finally ended, she spoke. "Would you like to accompany me to the dance tonight?"

Sibyl stood up a bit straighter – Weiss sent an admiring glance at his chest as he did so – and nodded. "It would be an honor," he declared, walking closer and offering an arm for her to wrap around. She did so, resting her head on his bare shoulder and not caring about the sticky sweat.

"Now, before we go to the dance, we need to get you dressed in something else."

Sibyl nodded at Weiss's words, smirking as he glanced down at her.

"Luckily, Coco bought me some sort of ballroom-wear when we last went into town. I had insisted against it, but perhaps she knew better than I did, hmm?"

Weiss wasn't too sure what to think as they began the somewhat long trek to his dorm, but when Sibyl untangled their arms and wrapped it around her side, Weiss decided tonight wasn't a night for thinking. It was a night to enjoy.

* * *

The Chosen Undead was in a bit of a shock at the moment, and he doubted it would wear off anytime soon. She had _kissed him._ Weiss had kissed him! And, not only that, it was the single greatest thing he had the pleasure of enduring. Her lips were so soft, and she smelt like some fine perfume that undoubtedly only she could afford. It had been when he'd pulled her in close and wrapped his arms around her that the undead had realized just how _small_ and beautiful Weiss was.

And now, as he was dressed in a grey-suit, complete with a tie which, somehow, matched the tint of his curly hair, a tie which Weiss had been forced to fasten, the two approached the doors of the dance. Their stop at the dorms had been a long one, because Weiss had covered his abyssal veins with makeup. He'd hardly been able to believe it, finding the black vein of darkness that ran to his lip covered up completely. He'd made sure to give Weiss more than a few kisses upon seeing himself in the mirror... ahh, it had been a pleasant time. Somehow, her lips had gotten even _more_ creamy from the time of their walk to the arena and back to-

Weiss, still draped around his arm, cleared her throat, and the undead realized he's been reminiscing about good time when a good time was _literally_ within his grasp. Blushing lightly, Sibyl stood very conflicted. Sif followed behind them, looking every bit as dignified as the two of them. He had a sheathe on his back, fastened by some belts that went around his torso and body. Sibyl had designed it himself relatively recently.

Still, Sif and Weiss weren't the only two looking good. Weiss had refastened his eyepatch, and, truth be told, Sibyl thought he looked _good._ Not as good as Weiss did, obviously, but the knight would be thanking Coco next time he saw her. Finally, they stood in front of the door. Sibyl opened it, walking in right alongside Weiss.

And of course, Yang was the first person to greet them. Her eyes took them in, and an instant later, she was jumping up and down, cheering. "Ooh, you two look _so_ beautiful together!"

It was enough to cause a _bit_ of a commotion, and a few dancers in the background glanced their way. Sibyl shrunk under the multiple gazes, feeling a bit out of his element.

Yang had left her place behind the podium, walking up to Weiss and Sibyl and examining them more closely. "Sooo," she began, staring at Weiss before her gaze turning to Sibyl, "is she a good kisser?"

"Yang-" Weiss tried to hiss, but Sibyl laughed while his face flushed red.

"Quite," was his simple answer, one which caused Yang to laugh even harder while Weiss turned redder, somehow. God, it felt good to say that. Weiss _was_ a good kisser, and she had kissed him. _Him!_ Sibyl of Lordran!

As Yang continued to fuss over Weiss and himself, the undead allowed himself a moment to calm. Eventually, he had enough of listening to the blonde tease his date, and he dismissed the two of themselves with a firm word.

"Thank you," Weiss said, her face losing some of its red hue, "It's… it's not that I don't appreciate Yang compliments, but I _would_ like to enjoy the night a bit more peacefully."

Sibyl nodded, and as the two made their way across the ball-room, he spotted his many different friends. Blake stood nearby with Sun and Neptune, conversing and laughing. He spotted Ren and Nora, the latter dancing a bit _too_ enthusiastically in his opinion. And eventually, he spotted Ruby, who seemed to spot them at _precisely the same moment-_

And, using her Semblance, she flew across the room. Of course, it seemed she was wearing heels, and about half way across, she began to stumble. Sibyl barely managed to grab her by the arm before her face slammed into the ground, pulling her up to her feet.

"T-Thanks, Sibyl," she greeted, shaking off her dizziness before quickly turning to Weiss, "I have _no_ idea how you fight in these stupid things!"

The young leader gestured to her shoes, and Sibyl raised a brow. Yes, now that he thought about it, Weiss _did_ fight in heels. How in Gwyn's good name did she manage _that?_

"But who cares about that! You two are together? I didn't know that! When did this happen, why wasn't I told- I'm team leader, Weiss! I'm supposed to know these things!"

The girl, she was talking quickly again, and what Ruby started talking quickly, damn near nothing could stop her-

"And you!" She pointed at him, marching forward and slamming a finger into his chest, "you better not make Weiss upset! Or I'll… I'll beat you up!"

Weiss had the good nature to palm her face, hoping maybe Ruby would get the point and stop embarrassing herself, but Sibyl chuckled, reaching out with a hand to rub the top of Ruby's head.

"Oh, if I do anything to upset Weiss, I don't think _you'll_ be the one beating me black and blue. She's quite capable of it herself, after all," Sibyl observed, glancing at his date with a side-eyed smile.

The Schnee Heiress nodded, turning her nose up a bit. Now that he noticed it, her acting all… prissy was quite cute.

Ruby nodded, happy her point as team leader had been made quite clearly. "Well, so long as you know… _ooh,_ I'm so happy for you two! Weiss, does this mean you'll stop being mean all the time?"

The girl in question stomped her foot, glaring at Ruby.

Taking the hint, Ruby laughed softly, glancing back and forth before excusing herself to go talk to Jaune. Sibyl watched her go with a smile, only to blink when Sif trotted along after her. Well, it seemed those two had created something of a bond. That was good.

"I'm sorry about her, Sibyl, but… you know how Ruby is," Weiss both explained and apologized, but Sibyl brushed it off.

"There is nothing to apologize for. I wish they might have a bit more faith in me, but it is nice to know that they care so deeply." Weiss nodded, and slowly, she moved in front of Sibyl, offering a hand and beckoning him to the dance floor.

The undead sighed, scratching at his head. "I'm… I'm not a very good dancer-"

Weiss had moved back forward, pressing a finger against his lips to silence him.

"Then I'll teach you. What was it I said so long ago... even the Schnee Heiress should be able to lower herself to the role of a simple guide?" she wondered, lowering her hand again for him to take. And, well… who was he to say no?

* * *

Sibyl had finally found a moment to untangle himself from his date – and no, it was not by choice. Another song had come on and Yang had forcefully grabbed Weiss from his grip, given him a wink, and said "You're not going back on your word, Weiss!"

With that, the two had been off. And, well, now he was here, standing along the walls and watching as Weiss and Yang danced. The latter was getting quite rowdy, but that was just like pyromancers, he supposed. Sibyl leaned his head back, sighing.

He felt like a fool for having ignored Weiss prior to his kiss… but he _could_ be rather oblivious with these things. Well, all that mattered tonight was making sure she had a good time. Things after, like his return to Lordran, what they _were,_ all of that could wait. Tonight was meant to be a good time, and he was going to make sure it remained such.

"Sibyl!" The voice of Pyrrha sounded from his side. He turned to greet her with a smile, and this time, as he glanced upon her, he felt no lingering thoughts. She was beautiful, yes, but he had a different beauty now. She crashed into him with a hug, thanking him profusely.

Jaune was trailing behind her, looking both happy and awkward.

"You were right," Pyrrha explained, tearing herself off him.

Sibyl allowed himself a small chuckle and a sip of his drink. "Well, of course I was." The two laughed together, and as Jaune finally approached more closely, Sibyl slapped him on the back. He nearly stumbled forward, but the undead paid it no mind. "Glad to see you made a good choice, friend." It was the first time he'd referred to Jaune as a friend, but the boy _was_ a friend, dense and annoying or not.

"Y-Yeah. Thanks. You and Weiss, you two looked really good out there, ya' know."

It was an attempt to bridge a gap of communication which had existed ever since that one night in the hall, ever so long ago. This time, Sibyl would allow it.

"I hardly knows what she sees in me, but who am I to doubt her?" As idler conversation flickered by, Sibyl felt his eyes light up at who he spotted across the room. Yes, while Weiss had only _just_ taught him how to dance, he was not about to let his wayward teacher and student off without one.

Bustling through the crowd, he cleared his throat as Glynda chatted on to Ozpin. She glanced over her shoulder, smiling upon seeing just who it was. "Headmaster, I'm afraid I need to take _my_ student for a dance."

Glynda rolled her eyes, but the smile remained all the same.

"Oh, by all means," Ozpin conceded, taking a step back.

Offering his hand, Glynda took it gracefully.

"You and Weiss looked quite good together," she began as they reached the dance floor, eliciting a nod from Sibyl.

"I feel she's the one carrying _us_ in the looks department, but yes, thank you."

As they continued to dance, Sibyl explained a _bit_ about just what had happened to get him and Weiss together.

"Hmm. I'm not surprised she had to kiss you to get you to see what everyone else could," Glynda observed as he gave her a _very_ quick spin, unable to keep the grin off his face when she glared at him. Of course, then she had to go and step on his feet, and Sibyl decided to be the better man and let her off without too much trouble.

It was only a few moments after he had watched her walk over to some older man in a white suit when he heard a familiar voice greet him from behind.

"Ah, Sibyl. Enjoying the dance, I hope?"

It was Chester. Steeling his features, he turned around and nodded respectfully. It was so incredibly odd to see Chester without his mask, but the undead still knew who it was, mask or no: a mad man.

"I saw your date earlier. A fine-looking girl. I hope my own date shows up soon, I was rather hoping to show her off," Chester idly observed, a bored look on his face as he glanced around.

Sibyl rolled his eyes and was unable to resist a shot. "Perhaps she finally realized just what sort of man she's with?"

Chester laughed, hardly caring about the insult. "Perhaps she has!" The fool paused in his laughter, taking a sip of the punch. "You've tried the punch, right? It's delicious."

Sibyl neither nodded nor shook his head, as he was too busy resisting the urge to get as far away from Chester as possible.

"What do you want, Chester?" He finally asked, giving the madman the attention he so desired.

"Oh, I'd just hoped to catch up with an old friend." Chester paused, swirling his punch around while he looked into the glass. "I really have turned a new leaf, you know. No funny business – cross my heart," he swore, but the Chosen Undead believed not a word of it.

"If you've turned a new leaf, you'd be trying to forget the one you left behind. Now, away with you. I've a night to enjoy," Sibyl declared, taking an idle look around for his date.

Eventually, he found her, chatting happily with Pyrrha.

In fact, the only one of his friends he was unable to find was Ruby, but he was sure the girl was fine. Given how… socially inept she was, she might have even just stepped outside for some fresh air.

Yes, that had to be it.

* * *

"Uh… Sif, why is that guard unconscious?" The wolf growled in response to Ruby's question, approaching slowly and sniffing. His growling got louder, and he reached over his back to the sheathe Sibyl had only recently created for him, pulling out his blade. Meanwhile, Ruby cleared her throat, reaching for her Scroll and entering the code which would send her locker, along with her weapon, crashing onto the ground behind her.

Retrieving her weapon, Ruby nodded at Sif, who adjusted the sword in his mouth. She was a Huntress-In-Training, and besides, she had Sif with her. She'd be able to catch whoever had knocked these guards out, easy.

Hopefully.

* * *

 ** _So, Sibyl and Weiss. I spent a lot of time thinking about it, and the main competitor was Yang, which I feel like most people can gleam from the earliest chapters of this story. That said, the more I thought about Yang and Weiss, I sorta decided things just didn't... fit right. My thoughts are sorta outlined in this one: Yang, yes, she sees Sibyl as attractive and appealing. But, and I tried to preview this through chapters long ago, things like the scars do turn her off. Sibyl's a bit too close to her nightmare scenario for her to really, passionately chase him. She wants to be an adventurer, and Sibyl is an example of what happens to an adventurer who adventures a bit too much._**

 ** _In short, Yang is still an immature, young, brash girl in this story. Weiss, however, is someone I've always perceived as having been forced to grow up faster due to her family. Much like Sibyl, who was forced to grow thanks to both the souls he absorbed, who imparted a sort of subconscious knowledge, from how to wield weapons to more, and secondly, from his journey throughout Lordran. So, I decided to pair them together after around 150,000 words. You're welcome._**

 _ **Secondly, Jaune and Pyrrha. Yes, their romance subplot is resolved. It's not important nor all that relevant for this story, and I didn't feel like having to needlessly focus on it when, given Sibyl's character, it could easily be solved this early on. You also might have noticed that Blake didn't need as much convincing to go to the dance and enjoy herself in this chapter compared to the episode. The reason for that is simple: Blake realizes she has been stressed. In the episodes, she's stressing out, obviously, but it's the sort of stress you shrug off and call normal.**_

 _ **In this story, she was captured by Adam and nearly raped. She thought she was in love with Sibyl, however briefly, thanks to that stress. So when Sibyl, who has been there for her and talked her out of unreasonable thoughts, says she needs to relax, and she's not as passionately against the idea, it goes much smoother. She see's Sun in a fairly positive light, too, since he's been there along with Sibyl to help her out frequently, and tada, dance time.**_

 _ **I know a lot of people like Yang, and I do too. Apologies, but it's just not where I wanted to take the story. Don't worry, though, if you think she's just going to be fazed out. The blonde brawler's just too much fun to write for me to do that.**_

 _ **And finally, I hinted at a few things in this chapter that will be relevant down the road. Sibyl and Weiss might be together, but it's not all smooth sailing- nothing ever is, when the Chosen Undead is involved. Happy early Thanks-giving, and consider this my apology for the previous chapter taking so damn long.**_


	16. Bound and Lost

_**Chapter 16, complete. I am back on a more regular-writing schedule, so hopefully we don't have any more two-months-before-chapters incidents again. Things are heating up again, and I'm excited. I don't know how many chapters we have left precisely, but I'd say anywhere between 8-10? Hard to say, because I know what I've had planned, but chapter length can fluctuate and I might have some ideas pop up. I anticipate chapters continuing to come out more regularly as we're past things I find boring, and writing is coming fairly easily once more.**_

 _ **Thanks everyone for reading. Over 600 follows and 200+ reviews. I'm smiling as I watch my story, which I've put a lot of effort into, continue to rise on the crossovers page. Regardless of where it ends up, I'm happy. I started this story with a vision, and the end of that vision is coming. It's been a lot of nights up late writing, but I don't regret any of it for a second. Big, big shout out to my beta reader Kevin, also known as ekaterina016. He has helped improve my writing a lot, and I think most people can see that as they've continued to progress through the story.**_

 _ **While I've always had faith in my actual writing abilities, and he stills helps there, he really fixed a lot of things I messed up with that I just didn't realize. Things such as paragraph spacing, which turned more readers off than I would have liked. Thank you to everyone who stayed through those first chapters, and I hope you all think I've improved, too. A few more notes at the bottom, but please: enjoy.**_

* * *

"…you really think I'm ready?" Weiss wondered aloud, allowing self-doubt to plague her in the privacy of Sibyl's dorm room. She didn't feel like she had to present some sort of _front_ here; she wasn't the Schnee Heiress, and not in front of her father and sister. She was _Weiss_ , even if only in the privacy of this room, and in front of the man she loved.

Sibyl's faith in her was sweet, but… there was no way she was ready! It felt like just yesterday she had her first failed cast of Soul Arrow, and now, he was trying to teach her Soul Spear? _Soul Spear?!_

The undead, oblivious or uncaring to her inner thoughts of self-doubt, nodded his head without hesitation in response to her question. "We already did the cast together, and you're an excellent student. I'm sure, with a bit of time and effort, we can get Soul Spear down before you leave on your mission tomorrow."

He grunted as his features hardened, lips thinning into a long line. "Given Ruby's and Sif confrontation with that thief last night, I'd feel more comfortable if you were to have a bit more firepower behind you."

It was still hard to believe. It had been such a wonderful night up until then, and while the knowledge that some thief had used it to infiltrate the CCTS hadn't _completely_ sullied it, the mood had been taken down a notch. It was fortunate Ruby had shown up when she did, though Weiss was a bit cross that her leader hadn't seen fit to alert any of them.

Still, it was no wasted effort. It was likely whoever the thief was connected to the White Fang, and with missions coming up, they'd be going to investigate the White Fang who had moved to the 'southeast,' as Sun and Blake overheard in the meeting they had spied on. Really, it seemed like there was never a moment of rest anymore. Eventhe multiple dances she'd shared with Sibyl just _yesterday_ seemed like so long ago.

She forcefully tore her mind away from how _warm_ she felt at the time, to focus on her teacher's sexy lips… _just_ lips! Lips!

Things were ramping up, and it made her realize Sibyl's point. Anything which could add to her arsenal was a must at this point, and Weiss was all for it.

Sibyl slowly grew quiet, and Weiss inched a bit closer to him. "What's wrong?" She wondered, knowing when he was in one of those 'moods' _._

The undead sighed, palming his face. "I'm simply stressed… about whatever that damn thief did which left Sif unable to track her; I'm worried about Sif's own injuries, however minor." He paused, humming to himself. "Worried that, apparently, Sif doesn't trust me enough to call upon my help. He could have howled, and I would have come running."

He didn't say anything for a moment, but Weiss didn't speak just yet. She knew Sibyl well enough to recognize this as one of his interlude moments, a time he self-reflected and got his thoughts in order. "I worry… does he resent me for Artorias? Does he know something about my infection that I don't?

"I've already pushed away Dusk, albeit begrudgingly… I do not want to lose one of the few links to my old world left."

Weiss sighed for Sibyl, wrapping an arm around his side and resting her head on his shoulder. It was a reasonable fear; he loved Sif, even if Sibyl struggled to show that affection more outright. He was grateful to the wolf, as well as sorry for what he'd done. He was so guilty, but most of all, _he was so dense._ The most obvious answers always seemed to allude him…

That's why she was here, though. "I don't think it's anything like that. You're always overthinking – if Sif howled, it might have alerted the thief, and Ruby and himself would have never even laid eyes on her."

"Perhaps you're right," Sibyl murmured, and Weiss couldn't help but raise a brow.

"Of course I'm right," she declared, throwing herself against him fully. The undead chuckled, nodding his head absently as they just _sat_ there. It was probably what Weiss enjoyed doing the most, simply being around him. Last night, she'd slept with him – not in whatever manner Yang might suggest – but they laid together, on his bed, just… _enjoying_ the warmth shared.

She knew Yang, and probably Blake, weren't going to let her forget it… but who cared? She enjoyed sleeping in his arms last night, and she'd do it again in a heartbeat.

All good things had to come to an end, however… and that end came when Sibyl finally spoke. "Well, we've only a day; best get started on Soul Spear sooner than later."

Weiss slowly peeled herself off him, understanding Soul Spear to be important, but at the same time, she would have loved to just laze around with him until she left tomorrow. Oh, well, there would be time for that in the future…

* * *

"They were _here,_ Ozpin!"

James Ironwood was not a happy man at the moment, and anyone within hearing distance could tell. And why wouldn't he? The Cross Continental Transmit System tower had been infiltrated on a night he'd _dared_ to let his guard down, _dared_ to enjoy a simple dance with friends like Dusk and Glynda. Well, it wasn't a mistake he was going to let happen again.

"Yes, James, thanks for making us all aware of that," Glynda snarked back, a stinging bite in her voice, but James didn't care. Lingering crush on her be damned; this was not a time for him to be 'James, an old friend'. He was the military leader of Atlas, and by God, he was going to keep his kingdom – _and Vale_ – safe. If he had to step on some toes… so be it.

"Somehow, they slipped through our grasp. They managed to infiltrate both this school ground and the tower itself, knock out all my guards, escape one of _your_ Huntresses, as well as an incredibly intelligent _wolf_ whose nose could track any of us for miles." Briefly, the general paused to take another inhale of breath, so he could point out to everyone else, who was so content to just stand by and _wait,_ how close their enemies were.

"I don't believe for a second they could have gotten past your security measures for the school itself, so I'm forced to ask: have you even considered the thief might be a student _here?"_

Ozpin rubbed his forehead in irritation as James finished his question. Good! This was a headache inducing situation they were in, and he was the only damned one who seemed to want to do anything to resolve it.

"The only fortunate thing about this situation is young Ruby Rose. We can only hope she stopped them from getting _all_ of what they were after, but that'd be a fool's hope. We need to prepare, Ozpin. We need to mobilize, maybe even stop the festival-"

"General," Dusk's voice called out from the background, serving to stop his words, albeit briefly, "please, thou aren't the only one left flustered."

Well, it sure seemed like he _was_.

James stopped in his steps, giving the woman from another world a long, hard look. "I thought you'd be on my side, but I guess you want to ignore what's right in front of us, too. Does no one understand-"

"Sire, my kingdom was consumed by an encroaching darkness I had ignored for far too long," Dusk explained calmly, and the air seemed to get sucked out of the air at that reminder. "Of everyone here, _I_ understand the severity of the situation best." She finished, still calm and serene. Ironwood felt whatever words he had ready die in his throat.

Right. Well, he, _unlike_ some other people in the room, could see his own mistakes. "My apologies, Dusk. You're right. I'm worked up and taking it out on everyone in this room" he took a deep breath, the motion serving to undo _just_ a smidge of tension in his neck.

"'Tis understandable. I wish I had not been forced to learn these situations must be treated with haste. The fall of Oolacile might have been prevented had I thine own natural intuition." Dusk mentioned forlorn, her eyes lowering to the ground before closing in memory.

James wasn't too sure what to say, so he said nothing, instead waiting for Glynda or Ozpin to continue the discussion. Of course, before anywords could be exchanged, Ozpin's Scroll began beeping. It… it wasn't that he didn't wish to comfort Dusk, but he'd long ago discovered it better to change the subject than remind her. And, lo behold, a perfect change of subjects had just arrived.

James Ironwood kept a firm look on his face as he examined just _who_ had walked through the elevator doors, a wolf trailing behind her by a few feet. A _very_ _big_ wolf, and one from another world which Dusk was familiar with. Still, the young Huntress was his more immediate concern, and he couldn't help but smile at seeing she really was the spitting image of Summer Rose.

"A-Ah, sorry it took so long," Ruby began, every bit as nervous as he'd expect someone in her position to be. "Sif wouldn't stop hounding Sibyl, and… well, he's a big dog. I can't exactly just drag him around…" Ruby's voice trailed off as she found the gaze of all the adults in the room settle on her fully.

Ozpin cleared his throat, attempting to make the air more comfortable. "Thank you for coming, Ruby. How are you?"

She chuckled lightly, rubbing at her head. "Okay, I guess. I'd feel a bit better if my bad-guy catching record wasn't 0-3, but, you know…" At the lack of grins, she somehow seemed to get more uncomfortable, " _Right._ Sorry,I'm just sorta' nervous, and when I'm nervous I-"

James decided he had enough, despite how endearing the sight was. He gave Ozpin a hard time, but he was doing a fine time with the youths of his school. James just wished their _leader_ wasn't so stuck in his rigid ways.

Still, calming down a nervous girl was the General's immediate concern. He held up a hand, stopping her rambling before it could get worse, and approached, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Ruby, I feel it appropriate I commend you for your actions the other night. You recognized a threat, took action, and dealt with it the very best you could."

Ozpin took over as his congratulations finished. "Now, Ruby, the General has already explained to us the events which transpired the other night, but we felt it best to see if you had anything else to add."

"Not… not really," the girl began, "It was hard to see, and she was wearing a mask. She had long black hair, I guess… though it could have been a wig? It looked real enough, I guess. Oh, she also fought with glass, but I doubt it was her Semblance; her clothing lit up when she attacked."

Ironwood sighed, turning back to Ozpin. "Dust on her clothes, I imagine. It might have served to even cover her scent, thus preventing the wolf from tracking her. This could still have been anyone," he mentioned, only to pause as he saw Glynda push up her glasses.

"Actually, I have a… suspicion, that we may be dealing with the same woman I dealt with upon first meeting Ruby."

Ironwood raised a brow, preparing to mostly dismiss the possibility-

"Wait," Ruby interrupted, heads once more turning towards her, "you think this girl is connected to Torchwick and the White Fang?" She wasn't explicitly wrong, but Ironwood didn't exactly want any loose lips running around.

Courageous Huntress or not, she was only fifteen.

"It's… possible," Ozpin neither confirmed nor denied, but James would have preferred silence. "We lack evidence to link the two together, however."

James considered himself a good judge of character, and he watched as Ruby's face contort, the General realized she was twisting some truths. Still, he had been briefed on just what team RWBY, as well as that 'Sibyl' character, had been up to. Information was the most important piece of any war, and if the information had to come secondhand through some children… Ironwood would take it regardless.

"Well, I think she did mention something about a hideout or something… in the 'southeast', just outside the kingdom."

It was the best lead they had at the moment, and given team RWBY's track record in finding trouble, he was inclined to believe there was some basis in the words.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Rose. Now, go spend some time with your team, and please, _do_ keep the matters we've discussed discreet."

She nodded dutifully at Ozpin, muttering a "Yes, sir." before leaving.

Ironwood waited until the elevator was closed to speak again, approaching the window which overlooked the city he was tasked to protect. "It's the best lead we've got. We need to send troops, evaluate whatever is going on over there, and eradicate what we can find before our enemies make their moves."

"James," Glynda began, voice already heated, "why must you treat everything like it's a situation of measuring _d-_ "

"Glynda!" Ozpin interrupted, and Ironwood did his best to ignore the uttered "He does,"from Glynda.

"I, too, would love to solve this situation once and for all, but it goes beyond Vale and Beacon," Ozpin explained with far more patience than James could deal with at the moment, "We cannot afford to act haphazardly, especially if this is all part of some masterplan meant to undo everything we know and protect. We can't afford to be so bold, nor spread panic in our peaceful streets."

Dusk cleared her throat, and all eyes turned towards her. "I agree we cannot act rashly, but nor can we afford to wait. Thine enemies, they _know_ thou well, Ozpin. Whatever plan they have for this city, it centers around the Maiden, no?"

Ozpin nodded, leaning back in his chair and taping a sip from his mug.

"They expect thee to put all efforts into a new Maiden… but contingences must be made. My council, we put our faith into Artorias, rest his soul, and found ourselves wanting. Instead, someone else is the reason why I live today. He has asked to stay out of this… yet I cannot allow him to. I care too much for this world, and I shan't let it fall to ruin. Just as the savior helped me, he may help thou."

Dusk took a deep breath, reaching up to wipe away a few tears. "Dear Savior, forgive me for breaking thy trust… please, allow me to share the guilt of my savior, and how we might use it."

* * *

"What happened?" Yang questioned, but to Ruby's ears, she may as well have shouted it as loud as possible, with a neon sign which figuratively said 'nothing suspicious here'hanging over her head. _"Keep it discreet,"_ Ozpin had instructed. Well, Ruby would like to see him try and keep anything discreet with a sister like Yang! She didn't know even what an internal voice _was._

She couldn't even wait for Ruby to shut the door before yelling about their secret meeting! Gah!

Struggling with her sister's antics for a moment, Ruby blinked at seeing Weiss wasn't in the immediate area. "Where's Weiss?" She wondered aloud, the idle question succeeding in helping to get Yang out of her face and eliciting a roll of the eyes from Blake.

"Probably sharing spit with Sibyl. She hasn't left him alone since the dance," the black-haired Faunus mentioned idly, a bit irritated for some reason. The girl flinched as Yang flicked her straight on the forehead, blowing a quick raspberry, while Team RWBY's most reserved member rubbed the red spot already forming on said forehead.

"Stop being so grouchy, Blake," Yang instructed, standing up straight, "She's just spending time with Sibyl before we leave on our mission, probably to try and calm him down."

Ruby tilted her head at that, more than a little confused. "'Why would Sibyl need to be calmed down?"

Both Blake and Yang gave her a _long_ look. She shrunk under the gases, feeling as small as she had up in that room with all of those adults staring at her. It wasn't _that_ dumb a question, was it?

Eventually, Yang answered. "Because we're all about to leave on a mission to investigate everything that's been going on, and he's _not_ going to be coming. Glynda already forbid him from joining us on our mission."

'Ooh'-ing, the team leader supposed that made sense. Not the Sibyl not being allowed to go part – that was dumb, and if Glynda wasn't cool otherwise Ruby might have been a bit madder about it – but rather that Weiss would want to spend some time with him. They were so _sweet_ together…

"Anyways; how did the meeting go?"

Well, it seemed there'd be no wiggling out of this one. Yang's question made sure of that. Resigned, Ruby went and flopped on her bed, dreading the words she was about to have to say. She just… didn't want her team to think she'd made a mistake in telling Ozpin and them about it.

They'd finally all _trusted_ her as team leader, and she might have blown it! The nervousness got to her, and she ended up mumbling her answer to Yang's question. Her dear sister told her to repeat it, and so, Ruby did.

"I, uh… I _sorta'_ told them I _overheard_ the thief say there was some secret base in the southeast?"

" _What!?"_ Yang and Blake both hissed at the same exact time, only causing Ruby to shrink even more. This was exactly what she'd been afraid of!

"I thought it'd help! They needed evidence to link the White Fang, Torchwick, _and_ the thief lady! If they go investigate, they'll discover the White Fang, and they may even be able to stop whatever they're planning!" Maybe she hadn't made the right choice, but Ruby was pretty sure she didn't make the _wrong_ choice.

"…I guess that makes sense," Blake conceded, shrugging. With that, near all of Ruby's stress went away. Perfect. Life had just gotten back to normal. They needed _no_ more rifts in their team!

"Yeah, good thinking, Sis!" Yang congratulated with a slap on the back, only to snap her fingers as she remembered something. "Oh! I got something that's going to cheer you right up, too."

Ruby slowly rose from her position on the bed, a bit curious on just what Yang thought would cheer her up. Sometimes, despite being sisters, the two had _very_ different ideas on what would cheer the other one up.

In this case, Yang pulled out some unopened, wrapped package. Ruby blinked. "Okay… what is it?"

"I don't know, but Dad sent it to us. I figured we'd open it together."

It was from Dad?! Ruby didn't need to be told twice; she rushed forward, ripping the package from Yang's hand and tearing the wrapping to tatters before throwing the lid over her shoulder, it landing in the corner of their room.

A dog's face greeted her, and Ruby stared confused for a second. Then it barked, and Ruby felt her face light up. Because this wasn't just any dog's face staring at her. It was _Zwei._

"Zwei!" She cheered, unable to keep her joy contained when the little corgi leapt up at her face, attacking with an endless attack of licks. Ruby couldn't stop herself from laughing. Yang had been right – this did cheer her up! No tense room, no scary adults, just good ol' Zwei!

Ruby kept loving on her dear pet, but was forced to let go when the corgi wiggled around to look backwards. The _moment_ the dog spotted Blake, he leapt. Ruby had _never_ heard Blake scream so high-pitched. The whole school must have heard it!

She was now atop her own bed, staring at the dog with a crazed look in her eye. Said crazed look soon turned to Ruby and Yang, the latter who was too busy laughing to pay attention. "Get that thing away from me! Also: why did you get a dog in the mail!?" Blake shouted, glaring down at the dog below which had tilted its head and remained barking.

As Ruby prepared to explain that, really, there was no reason to be scared of Zwei, the door was thrown open.

Sif, Weiss, and Sibyl, the latter of whom both looked a bit unkempt, entered, ready to fight. Sif, the quickest among them, had already crossed half the room and pounced atop of Zwei, pinning him with his much larger body and growling like a menace, fangs bear and inches from the much-smaller dog's face.

"Yeah, get him, Sif!" Blake cheered, and Ruby would be having a _firm_ talking to her about that later.

Her first priority, though, was making sure Sif didn't _eat_ Zwei! Rushing forward, Ruby threw herself at Sif in a tackle, barely managing to dislodge the wolf from atop Zwei. "No, Sif! Don't eat him – that's Zwei! He's a good dog!"

* * *

Well, things were certainly interesting. Sibyl could say that much for sure, unable to keep his eyes from tracking Sif and that… corgi,Zwei, which now sat firmly atop his great wolf friend. Considering just a bit ago, the former had been ready to tear apart the latter, it was odd. Very odd.

"Sibyl, are you paying _any_ attention at all?" Weiss hissed into his ear, and he stiffened on instinct. He considered lying, but in the end shrugged, deciding to not even pretend the speech in the background interested him.

"Sif and Zwei have my attention captured. I just… never imagined I'd see what I'm looking at." Weiss shifted her hip, and the undead gulped.

"And those two are more interesting to you than the headmaster's speech?"

Once again, the undead knew better than to lie. He nodded, raising one hand to stroke his chin as he stared at the wolf. How had they bonded so quickly? Were the two able to communicate; he knew Sif intelligent, but what of Zwei? When had the dog even gotten here? _How_ had it gotten here?

Weiss, by his side, sighed, unable to stop from pinching the bridge of her nose. "Well, at least you're honest."

And those words were _precisely_ why he was honest. There was more good will to be gained by it than deception, and besides, now he was able to freely tune out the headmaster's speech.

…could Sif, in theory, teach Zwei to wield a dagger? The dog was far too small for a sword, but a dagger might work. Maybe a short-sword, just certainly no greatsword like what Sif wielded. Ruby had mentioned Zwei was trained to fight, but again: how? Why? Who decided _that_ was a beast befit of a fight? It hardly came up to Sibyl's shin!

"I don't get it," the undead eventually declared, glancing back towards Weiss to see her arms crossed and foot repeatedly tapping the ground. Hmm, it seemed he was in trouble.

"Are you done? Because the headmaster finally finished his speech, of which, you tuned _all_ of it out!"

Giving an uncertain shrug, the undead just couldn't understand how everyone was shaking off Zwei apparently being a combat dog and having taken to Sif so quickly. Speaking of Sif, the wolf had only continued to grow since Sibyl had brought him back here.

…it's not as if Sibyl expected Sif to _eat_ Zwei or anything, but as the Chosen Undead watched the corgi chew on the leather which housed Sif's sword, he just wasn't sure why the thing wasn't being flung off Sif's back. Or trampled on, or growled at, or _something._ And, again, it was a combat dog! A combat dog which came up only to his shin.

The Schnee Heiress sighed, affectionately wrapping a hand around his arm and dragging him off. He whistled at Sif, the wolf coming along without a fuss, the corgi still atop his body. Zwei was still chewing on the sheathe _Sibyl_ had crafted. The leather had been expensive, and the dog was just… _chewing_ on it. A disgruntled frown appeared on the undead's face, and he finally turned away.

"Is it the sheathe?" Weiss asked in resignation, and Sibyl nodded.

"I worked hard on it, and Zwei is just… _chewing_ on it."

"I'm sorry," Weiss apologized, yet didn't sound very 'sorry', "but you need to focus. Or… are you just going to let your _girlfriend_ leave without even a goodbye?"

Those words made him freeze.

Firstly, because hearing Weiss utter the word 'girlfriend' was pleasant. They had hashed the details out yesterday, and decided that _yes,_ attempting a relationship was what they both wanted. He was so unused to the word, having never heard it prior to… well, now, essentially, but it rolled off the tongue perfectly. He looked forward to hearing it more in the future, honestly.

Secondly, she had a very valid point. He was over here, fussing over some dumb dog, while Weiss was about to leave on a very dangerous mission! Her team being with her hardly mattered; he was fraught with worry. Or, well, he had been, prior to Zwei sending his priorities out of whack.

Bowing his head lightly, he apologized. "I'm sorry. You're right. I'm being a _buffoon,_ as you would say."

A smug smile appeared on her face, one which often _did_ show when she won some sort of argument. He allowed it as they settled in with the rest of Team RWBY, who were at some screen.

"Nice for you two to _finally_ show up," Yang observed, giving a quick wink at Sibyl which had him blushing, but then he remembered, he and Weiss hadn't actually been doing anything untoward. His face quickly returned to normal, and the undead noted with a raised brow that Weiss's face hadn't even briefly changed color.

Then again, she shared a room with Yang. She must be used to the teasing at this point.

"Yes, yes, we're here. Now, we're going to need to shadow a Huntsman to the southeast," Weiss began, pushing her way straight up to the computer.

"Already tried," Yang muttered, crossing her arms in irritation, "that mission is off-limits for first-years."

"Then how are we going to get out there?" Blake wondered aloud, looking at him for some reason. How was he supposed to know?

"We could mail ourselves there?" Ruby suggested in jest, getting a glare from Blake, who in turn glared at Zwei. Well, it was good to know he wasn't the only one alone in his dislike of the small corgi who had _no_ appreciation for hard work.

"That _is_ one option," came the drawling voice of Ozpin from behind the group, managing to get all of them to freeze. He waited until he had their full attention before elaborating, "It's unfortunate, but we determined the concentration of Grimm there was too extreme for first year students. It seems that particular region is rather popular," he elaborated, staring at Ruby.

"In fact, I have a _sneaking_ suspicion that, regardless of which mission the four of you sign up for, you will find your way there, one way or another. Your team, Miss Rose, does have quite the penchant for being in the midst of chaos." He paused, and Sibyl prepared to interject with his own words, but was interrupted when the headmaster continued.

"Now, _usually_ I wouldn't let a group of first years access to such a dangerous mission, but according to Glynda," he explained, a small grin overtaking his features, "two of your teammates, Miss Rose, have been involved in some… extracurricular studies which have boosted your team's already impressive abilities _beyond_ those of a first year's… pending approval from your tutor, of course. What say you, Sibyl? Are Weiss and Yang's finer arts coming along smoothly?"

Ozpin's eyes turned to Sibyl, and the undead returned the older man's grin with a smirk all of his own. "Of course, Headmaster. As a master pyromancer and sorcerer, I can safely say the both of them are well-adept in the art."

Inclining his head, Ozpin adjusted a few things on his Scroll. "Glad to hear it. Glynda had you listed as needed for final approval, and it seems I've gotten it."

"We won't let you down," Ruby declared, determination in her eyes. "Thank you, professor."

Ozpin shook his head as he put away his Scroll, tapping his cane on the ground. "Do not thank me for this. Everyone here is well aware the world is not all fairy tales and happy endings, and I dare say you five know it better than most."

Sibyl narrowed his eyes, but they softened. It seemed Glynda _had_ told Ozpin about his situation with the White Fang, but that was to be expected. She was his superior; he could hardly expect her to hold out all details, especially when he was held right at this very school after his injuries.

"I hope you ladies all well understand the dangers which lay outside the kingdom walls. _Do_ stay close to your Huntsman, listen to _everything_ he says. It will be his decision to send you back, should he you're your skills unsatisfactory."

Ozpin paused, letting the words sink in. "That said, good luck… and Sibyl, if you wouldn't mind following me?"

Weiss gave him a concerned look, but the undead shrugged. "Sif, stay with the girls," Sibyl instructed, following the headmaster as he walked off. "What can I do for you, Ozpin?"

The older man looked over his shoulder, humming for a moment before speaking. "I apologize for not allowing you to go with Team RWBY on their mission. You are rather close with all of them, I understand, but even I cannot skirt around the official paperwork on this one. Teams of four are permitted to go, no more, though Sif might be able to accompany them."

He nodded in understanding, waiting for the headmaster to continue further.

"And… well, a friend of mine has been hoping to meet with you. General James Ironwood, general of the Atlas military."

Oh. _Oooh._

That must be where they were going. Sibyl decided to keep his doubts to himself as Ozpin began speaking on more… mundane things. The General of Atlas, wanting to speak with _him?_ Despite… well, despite mostly trusting the people of this world nowadays, Sibyl couldn't help but stiffen. It set up too perfectly for him to be forced to _do_ something, and that would not end well for anyone involved.

Still, Dusk was involved with Ironwood and Atlas, was she not? Sibyl seemed to recall, and he doubted, despite their tense relationship lately, she would allow anything like that to happen.

Well… he'd just have to keep wondering until he met with the man. Hopefully it didn't take too long; he wished to see Team RWBY, and Weiss, off, as well as make sure they took Sif. The great wolf's presence with them would do a great job easing his worries. Team RWBY was strong – he'd never deny that.

But they did not have the survival instincts he and Sif possessed, one which Lordran brutally honed and beaten into all of its inhabitants. Eventually, that instinct would fail them, but it was a far cry better than not having one at all. Sif would keep them safe; Sibyl knew it to be so.

His sleep would still be restless regardless of Sif's presence, but slightly less so.

* * *

Weiss couldn't help but bite her lip as she waited for Sibyl to give them – and her – one final goodbye, but he _wasn't_ coming, even after they'd all packed their bags and met up with the Huntsman they were going to be shadowing. She'd hoped whatever the headmaster had dragged him off to do might be more brief, but no.

Even worse was the Huntsman they'd be shadowing. _Of course_ it had to be Dr. Oobleck of _all_ the Huntsmen and Huntresses available.

"Another minute gone, ladies! Giddy up; we've ruins to explore and secrets to uncover!" The… _eccentric_ Huntsman called from some distance behind her, his impatience growing. The rest of her team were waiting by her side, and Weiss frowned as Blake laid a hand on her shoulder. She heard the words before they were even spoke.

"We need to go, Weiss. The headmaster is probably keeping him," the Faunus reasoned, and it was true. It was something she was used to – people were often kept too long to see her off. People were always too _busy_ to see her off. Father with his _business_ meetings, Winter with her _military_ meetings, and now, Sibyl with his _headmaster_ meeting.

It was unfair to lump the undead in there with that group, because she knew he probably didn't want to be with Ozpin. It was also hard _not_ to lump him in there, despite her best efforts. Well, he'd just have to make it up to her when they got back – and he _would_ make it up to her. She was sure of that. He was different.

Sighing, Weiss turned away, walking with the rest of her team back to the airship which would take them to dangerous, faraway places.

…why did it have to be Dr. Oobleck as their guide? _Why?_

* * *

So, the person sitting across from him was Sibyl of Lordran, someone who he'd heard of only briefly before coming to Beacon and speaking with Ozpin and Glynda fromDusk. His presence at Beacon had come as a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. Sure, Ironwood had found himself a bit angrySibyl had refused to stay, based on what Dusk had told them of their meeting.

It was not his place to judge, though. The young man had motives of his own, and he'd already done a lot in just teaching Glynda and members of Team RWBY his magics. Yet he could do _more,_ and Ozpin was hesitant to demand 'more'. Why? From everything Dusk had said of Sibyl, the undead _was_ reasonable. He was kind; he'd have no reason _not_ to teach them more before leaving.

But Ozpin was content to wait. Content to do _nothing_ as their enemies moved.

"James Ironwood, is it?" Sibyl began, holding out a hand to shake.

The General wasted no time in returning it, feeling the strength behind the grip and callused hands. "Sibyl. I've heard a lot about you, young man."

"All good things, I hope?" The undead joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Mostly. Glynda mentioned something about your dancing?" The two shared a brief laugh, but as the joyful sound faded, the air got more serious. James beckoned Sibyl to follow him through the confines of Ozpin's personal office, which he'd graciously loaned for this private conversation.

They stood in front of the office's biggest window, overlooking both Beacon and Vale. "A beautiful sight, isn't it?" Sibyl nodded absently, the smile on his lips having thinned to a line. "I would do _anything_ to protect what we're looking at. Beacon, Vale – this is my home just as much as Atlas is. A home is much more than just somewhere to sleep."

James spared a glance at the boy next to him, who was staring far out into the distance. "It's a nice place," Sibyl admitted, " _too_ nice, from the people to the sights. The only blight on this land is the Grimm, and I'm sure, in time, even that threat will lessen."

It was easy to appreciate the hope, the belief, but the knight was more wrong than he knew. _Far_ more wrong. "I wish I could say I agree, but there are threats out there, Sibyl. Threats which would love to see the city before you in ruins, the people you call _friends_ broken and dead." He paused, considering how to really enact just how grave the situation was. "If I could write those threats off as Grimm, I would. But I can't. _People_ have turned their own back on all of us, and that is far more dangerous than anything else I could imagine."

Sibyl was quiet, taking in his words. That was all James asked, and that was what the others refused to do.

"I'm not here to ask you to not return to Lordran, though I think it would be for the best," the general turned his full body to face Sibyl, giving the undead the respect he deserved. "I know you have more in your arsenal, and whatever weapons you can give us to fight the Grimm before we leave, the better. But I'm a man of science, of _technology_.

"Please. I'd like you to demonstrate your magic on a few captured Grimm we have, _including_ those lightning miracles," James held up a hand to stop the protests of Sibyl before they could begin. "Yes, Dusk told me of them. Of you being a Sunlight Warrior. I understand your miracles are sacred, but I have to ask… are they more sacred than lives, Sibyl? Than the lives of children – than the lives of mothers and fathers, then the lives of your _friends?_ "

Sibyl didn't respond, instead turning his head back to stare straight out the window.

"…if one of those miracles, pyromancies, or sorceries prove to be very effective… I'd ask you teach someone or write an instruction book – write a teaching book on sorcery, _something_!"

"I've already taught Glynda, Weiss, and Yang," he explained, and James resisted the urge to cut him off that it just wasn't _enough._ "They could teach the others; they're very bright, all of them."

James stepped forward, placing a hand on Sibyl's shoulder hesitantly. He breathed an internal sigh of relief that the undead hadn't gotten angry or violent at the physical contact.

"I'm sure they are, just as sure as I am you've taught them well. But Sibyl, we both know you haven't taught them everything. We _both_ know that, by the time you leave, they still won't know everything, much less how to teach it like a master should.

"Besides, you need to consider the science of these arts further," James explained, trying to stress the importance, "What if my scientists could harness pyromancy into weapons? I've seen those fireballs you use from arena fights, Sibyl. They're as strong, if not stronger, than some of our greatest weapons – when you really let loose, at least. And conjuring lightning bolts, eluding waves of force all around you? Nevermore feathers might be able to be deflected back; we might be able to use that 'Force' miracle to protect our airships, enabling us to take the offensive against the Grimm!"

James could picture it. Maybe not today, definitely not tomorrow, but _eventually,_ they'd figure out how those miracles ticked in a sense. And if they could be adapted to protect his ships… they could defeat the Grimm. They could defeat _anyone_ and _anything_. The only thing standing between James and his new vision was a child of eighteen, regardless of his combat experience. Ironwood would win this argument, he would get what he needed, and the world would be safer for it.

"And, besides, even _if_ you have taught Glynda and Yang, you've taught _no one_ your miracles," James finished, watching the undead's face contort with rage.

"They are _sacred_ miracles," he hissed, "passed down for generations among those chosen! And not to mention pyromancy – it is an art of passion, of care, meant to be passed from teacher to student, not… not paraded around, like sorcery! I wish to see it flourish as a fire should, but there is a _bond_ in the flame!" Anger stayed clinging to his featured before slowly fading as he looked back off towards the city below. "But I understand, General. I understand what you want and why. You even make points which make me doubt myself and my motives."

Sibyl paused, turning to meet eyes with the man who dared demand _more_ from someone who had given everything. "You remind me of those who I have _always_ hated," he gritted, only to have a defeated sigh escape him a moment thereafter, "and those which have always seemed to try to control me, regardless of that hate."

James said nothing, and a deafening silence shook the room.

"So, what will you do?"

Sibyl didn't respond for a few moments, closing his eyes and breathing in deep.

"…I will write down the full extent of my knowledge. I will share my miracles, too, should they prove more effective, and I will concede to your… experiments," the undead sounded resigned, and James might have felt bad if not for the fact his kingdom would be safer because of this.

"Congratulations, General. You have broken something which was already shattered. I commend you for it. Good day, and _only_ retrieve me when those experiments are ready. I will document my knowledge on my own time."

The undead left, not in anger, but in disappointment. When the elevator closed and James was alone, he turned to the window.

"… _that_ went well," came the voice of Ozpin from his desk, a screen with the headmaster's face undoubtedly appearing. The General didn't bother to look back, and instead tried to steel his resolve by staring at the city he was tasked to protect. Someone had to do the hard things, had to push the boundaries.

"Does Glynda know?"

"Yes. She left towards the end of your… conversation _."_

Wonderful. She was close to the boy, so it was to be expected she might be a bit angry.

"…did we make the right choice, Ozpin? Pushing him further?"

"These days James, I hardly know what the right choice is."

"You? Self-doubt? Never thought I'd see the day."

The headmaster didn't reply, and James didn't look over his shoulder to the sorrowful look of one of his closest friends. Instead, he kept thinking about the eighteen-year-old who resigned himself to being used as a knowing pawn, and what he might need to say further to keep that pawn in this world.

He could ruin whatever plan Salem had. James was sure of it.

* * *

' _Pathetic… passing on the sacred miracles of Sunlight… my standards continue to degrade,'_ the undead demeaned himself as he closed the door to his dorm, unable to stop his eyes form homing in on Solaire's helmet. His frown deepened, and he stomped like a child over to his bed before sitting down on it, crossing his arms as he pondered _._

Everywhere he went – ever since he could remember, he'd been _told_ what to do. He sought to ring the Bells of Awakening because he had been _told_ to do so. He'd sought the Lordvessel because he'd been _told_ to do so. He'd attended this school because he had been _told_ to do so… by a drunk, of all people!

He was a child in a young man's body, unable to think, unable to do _anything_ on his own! Little more than a knowing pawn in a game he could never understand, one he never _wanted_ to understand. Even in _another_ _world,_ people sought to control him. And he knew – oh, he knew. He was not stupid, but he was a fool. A fool who could be charmed by a few flowery words, a fool who had never done _anything_ in his life, so he sought to do _something._ To save lives, even those he didn't know, no matter what. To save as many people as he could, so they could live a life which was beyond him.

Vows he had taken, to treat his precious miracles with honor? Vows he had given to his _best friend?_ They vanished, all so he could feel _good_ about himself. It… it wasn't bad _,_ exactly. He would be helping people, and that was good… but when would it end? Would he allow them to use his Abyssal eye? If they thought it could save people, would he allow it? It seemed with every passing hour since he'd awoken, he broke a promise. He still didn't think he'd allow them to use his Abyss, but he also didn't think he'd find himself documenting Sunlight Miracles because someone _asked._

Damn it. And he couldn't refute James's science argument; he hardly knew enough about it. Maybe certain miracles could be adapted to keep his airships safe. Sibyl just didn't _know,_ and he certainly wasn't going to be able to figure it out on his own to give a concrete answer.

His sorceries and pyromancies should have been enough, but he had conceded for the miracles. Why had he even shown them off, so long ago? Oh, perhaps because he expected people to respect his wishes! But they expected him to throw away _everything_ he had ever claimed to be!

And yet… he had already disrespected enough people. What was one more stain upon his honor? Best to give others a chance to live honorably and in peace. If his soul must reside within the withering grasp of the abyss and be degraded into, _somehow,_ less than it already was, so be it.

…if giving away his miracles would keep Weiss safe, he could take the dishonor. He didn't want her fighting the Grimm; he didn't want anyone fighting them! He knew the horrors of combat, _real_ combat. People died, especially good people. Team RWBY, they were all so _good._ He didn't want Yang to get hurt, nor Ruby or Blake, and yet, they would get hurt. Perhaps not physically, because he believed them all adept. No, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but someday in the future, someone they knew would get hurt.

The girls, they did not know it yet. But the pain of someone else getting hurt was far, _far_ beyond oneself.

Sibyl sighed as he sat in his dorm, alone, while his friends were out there in danger's arms. His gaze raised once more to Solaire's helmet, still resting on his nearby desk. What would Solaire think of him these days? Where was the prideful, strong, confident undead he used to be, even when the odds had been so against him? Now here he was, being pulled in all directions and unable to stand against _any_ of it. He was a tool, just as he always had been.

Where had all his conviction _gone…_ or had he ever even had any?

* * *

It had been a _long_ day. Firstly, the meeting with Ozpin had left Ruby spooked. Then, they get told their shadowing Dr. Oobleck of _all_ the possible Huntsmen, not to mention Weiss was being all mopey because Sibyl hadn't seen them off. Really, she had barely said a word the whole ride! Then, a bit after they had arrived, they had to go about clearing the immediate area.

Lotsof Grimm had been taken care of, with the help of Sif and Zwei. Ruby had seen Sif fight a few times, but he was _really_ impressive. She was glad Dr. Oobleck had been welcoming towards the thought of bringing the two along, mentioning something about having heard about how impressive Sif was from Peter and Glynda. Oh, also something about Zwei and their noses combined being great for scouting out ruins.

Really, she was mostly glad to have Zwei with her. It would have been so cruel to have him arrive justto leave him behind! Besides, Zwei and Sif got along great. This whole trip was like an extended bonding session…

Maybe a bit _too_ literally, because while Dr. Oobleck hadn't asked _her_ personally, apparently he'd been asking the rest of her teammates about why they wanted to be Huntresses all day long. It had set all of them a bit on edge, though supposedly he'd been satisfied with their answers.

At the end of the night, Ruby and Zwei were the only one awake and keeping watch, Sif sleeping alongside Weiss. Or, well, _Ruby_ had been the one left keeping watch. Some murmurs had drawn her out of her hiding place, and an attempt to follow the White Fang left her in the precarious position she now was in: captured, bound, and staring up into the confused, agitated, and, somehow, soft eyes of Roman Torchwick.

"Red, you're a _long_ way from home."

Yikes.

* * *

 _ **Sibyl's in a bit of a bind, ain't he? I think most sympathetic people would be in a similar position: keep vows shared with a great friend to treat certain miracles sacred, or break that vow, sharing private knowledge which could, potentially, save millions? Also, sure, he could deny teaching people more general miracles, of laying out pyromancy knowledge in books- which is supposed to be passed from teacher and students, based on the principle of the deal he made with Ozpin. But... is it worth it? Is that little bit of conviction worth saving people? Or is it better to just allow yourself to get jerked around to save more people? And again, Sibyl wants to save people. He was led to believe he was the Chosen Undead, destined to save the lives of everyone- and, on some level, he still believes it.**_

 _ **I think most people would allow themselves to get jerked around, regardless of how annoyed it made them to break convictions on ancient teaching methods. Also, I find Ironwood a good character, moreso than Ozpin, in the early seasons of RWBY. It's a part of the reason I'm trying to focus more on things through his perspective. I also want to make Dusk a bit more enticing in this story without being a pure princess. She will do anything to stop her new world from ending up like Oolacile, even offering insight into her personal savior's mind.**_

 _ **To do good, you have to dip into grey.**_

 _ **I'm a bit curious on what all of you think is going to happen long-term. I've had a few people guess who were off-base, mainly with the Adam arc, but it's still entertaining to see what people think might occur. Anyways, thanks for reading and continuing to follow this story. Review or not, up to you, just enjoy!**_


	17. Fractured

_**Author's Notes: Hello! Long story short: I got busy, stayed busy, had computer issues, and didn't get along to finishing this until now. The good news is, the word count of just the straight chapter is above 14k, so it's a juicy one. Appreciate all the reviews, especially ones that were critical of Sibyl's thought process. It tells me I'm not doing a good of a job as characterizing Sibyl as I should be, because while I don't care if people think Sibyl's decision is stupid, I do care when people question it, because that means it doesn't make sense for the character. Then again, I may be mixing reviews with people who want Sibyl to act a certain way and whatnot, but regardless, I have good reviewers and appreciate all of you. I never get flamed, just people who disagree. I've listened and changed a few things thanks to a few of them, so please, keep 'em coming.**_

* * *

Roman Torchwick remembered a time long ago when things made _sense._ A time when _he_ stood atop the criminal underworld, when people came to him for all sorts of things, mostly unsavory. A time before crazy, insane people forced his cooperation in ruining _everything_ he'd ever sought to rule over from beneath.

Back then, little fifteen-year old girls didn't carry around giant scythes and chase after dangerous criminals. They also didn't gain entry into precious combat schools like Beacon years early, and they certainly didn't make friends with some out-of-this-world undead boogey man who was capable of bringing down a whole cavern atop his head and leaving _alive._ God, Roman missed when things had been simple- back when kids minded their damn business!

No, instead, he had to deal with _this._ Little Red showing up at his camp in the middle of the night. That in and of itself wasn't too bad. She was a single huntress, and definitely not one good enough to give _him_ trouble. The real issue is, she wouldn't be out here alone. In fact, this was some sort of stupid shadowing-season for First Years Huntresses, so there was definitely a trained Huntsman around ready to cause some chaos, not to mention her team which had caused enough troubles for him already.

Worst of all would be if _Sibyl_ was here. Oh, Sibyl best _not_ be here, because Roman might just die if that was the case, and he had a few too many plans in motion to die now. No, this was bad, but it was salvageable.

"…should we kill her?" Asked Perry. Poor, sweet, _innocent_ Perry. Well, not so much innocent, but he was a hair smarter than most of the White Fang goons in his employ at the moment. Roman took a deep breath, turning away from the tied-and-bound Ruby at his feet and resisting the urge to knock his more useful minion on his ass with a firm swing of his cane.

"Do you know just _who_ that is, Perry?" The white-fang grunt said nothing, eventually shaking his head in the negative. Of course he didn't know- why would he know about some random huntress? "That's little miss Ruby Rose, a member of team RWBY at Beacon academy. Odds are she has a Huntsman or Huntress prowling around above us _right_ now, looking for her. What do you think happens to us if we hurt her, much less kill her?"

See, they thought a Huntsman was something to be afraid of. They were wrong. "But we really shouldn't even worry about some Huntsman. Usually, they're against the whole _killing_ thing, so worst case scenario is you end up in the nice, comfy arms of the Atlas military. No, it's a Huntsman up above if we're lucky, if not…"

Roman paused, tapping his cane on the ground three times and breathing deep before continuing. "You know about dear-little Adam, right? Your fearless leader, so strong and mighty? You know about what happened to his little… outpost?"

Perry paled, and Roman gave a scowl. "Well, _I_ know what happened. A lot of people died. I remember a few reports of people with their chests just… _blown_ out. Holes straight through them. It took forever to dig far enough to reach them, because the cavern they were in was _collapsed._ Wild stuff! Must have been some interesting autopsies at the hospital.

"Suffice to say, I know _who_ did that. And he happens to be a _very_ good friend of the Huntress who stumbled upon our little operation here. If we're lucky, he's not with her… but I wouldn't count on it."

Roman kept his gaze on Perry for a few moments longer, before the White Fang grunt finally turned his eyes to the ground. Right, well, now that the idiotic idea of _killing_ her was done, Roman had to figure out just what to _do_ with her. He turned back to the tied-up Red on the ground, whose eyes were wide while her face was scrunched up, as if not sure what to make of just what _exactly_ had just happened.

Gah. Kids… why couldn't he be dealing with some twenty-five-year old? He'd whack them across the face with his cane to remove that pity-inducing look but doing it to someone so young just didn't sit right. Guess he'd have to use words…

"You're not going to get hurt, Red, so calm down. I don't want that undead ripping my heart out and shoving it down my throat." And Sibyl probably _would_ do that. Roman shivered at the thought. Yeah, avoiding having his heart in his throat seemed like an important detail of his upcoming scheme.

Still… leaving Ruby alone wasn't exactly the answer, either. "But you will be coming with us. Neo!" Roman whistled, and it was barely a few seconds before his faithful assistant appeared, smiling brightly at Red and waving. "Put her somewhere safe on the train, and _do not hurt her._ We don't need to give that guy anymore reason to hate us."

"Ooh… I don't know about _that,"_ Came the whisper of a disguised Chester, and Roman resisted the urge to both jump and curse. The man could move silent as a fox when it suited him. Yeah, Cinder had stuck her little dog on him to keep watch; he would have rather had the damn kids than Chester.

…Why did he have to be here so quickly, anyways? They'd just had some dumb dance at the school, before Cinder had him flown out here. God, Roman hated Chester.

"I do agree we shouldn't kill little red… but where's the harm in roughing her up? Peeling back a few fingernails?" And comments like that was _exactly_ why Roman hated Chester! He was a God-damned sociopath, and that was being _polite_ about it.

Roman took a deep breath, turning around and pointing his cane at the masked man's chest. And no, he wasn't in that ugly attire he seemed to love so much, complete with the stupid, smiling mask; it was a pretty generic set up, probably to stop him from getting found out and killed the next time Sibyl saw him at Beacon.

"Alright lapdog, listen. This is _my_ operation. _Mine._ I decide when we leave, I decide what we do with prisoners, and if you don't like it, _too damn bad!_ So, please, go sulk in some dark corner and cut your wrists till you bleed out, before I make Neodo it for you."

Chester laughed, leaning down and rubbing a finger across Red's cheek. Roman was about ready to kill him right there, but he knew better. If he killed Cinder's boy-toy, the woman would slowlyroast him alive. "Look like you've got a rotten angel watching over you, little Rose… but he might not always be here." The freak stood and stretched, giving a small wave at Ruby as he moved back towards the train.

Ruby muttered something under her gag, and Roman nodded in agreement. "Yeah, not a fan of his either, Red." Sighing, Roman gave her another long glance and ran a hand through his hair. "Why couldn't you just mind your business? Why not just read a book or something?"

A glare was his only answer.

"Right, well… Perry, get everyone on board. We've moving, _now,_ before her team and whatever Huntsman she has with her finds us." And he could only pray to whatever God he didn't believe in that Sibyl wasn't with her… because things might get rough if he was.

Why did Cinder's damn plan have to hinge on _him_ being the one going to jail?

* * *

Yang _had_ been sleeping, but the not-so-gentle whispered hiss of Blake and the barking of Zwei combined to pull her out of the deep slumber. Not that she realizedwhat was making all the noise the moment of her waking up, but within a few seconds, she recognized the barking of Zwei just because she'd lived with the dog for so long.

"Yang, get up," Blake continued to demand with a growl, "Zwei just came back barking, no one else was woken up for second-watch shift, and Ruby is missing." Yang stretched as she finally came to sit up, not really listening to Blake's words. Well, she _hadn't_ really been listening, up until her partner said three, critical words: _Ruby is missing._

Ruby was missing? Alarm bells went off in her head, and Yang scrambled up to her feet, nearly slipping. Her sister was missing in this deathtrap of a city!? "W-What? When did she go missing?" Dr. Oobleck's hand came to lay on her shoulder, and for once, her fast-paced teacher's presence helped in calming her down.

"We don't' know, but we certainly have the means to find out," Doctor Oobleck explained, holding up a single finger as he began to… be himself, speaking quickly, "Given Zwei came back, it's reasonable to assume he knows where Miss Rose was taken; secondarily, Sif is a hound of unknown origin, and has quite the nose and tracking abilities. We can use the both of them to find Ruby, and we will do so _now._ Get your weapons, girls. Time is of the essence!"

Not needing to be told twice, especially when her sister was in danger, Yang had strapped both her gauntlets on. Everybody else seemed to have woken up a few moments earlier than her and were all ready. Zwei barked to gather their attention before setting off, Sif trotting along at his heels near the front of their group.

It only took around five minutes of following Zwei before they managed to find a gigantic hole in the ground, Ruby's crescent Rose laying near it. "Ruby's scythe," Yang muttered, leaning down to pick it up. Her fingers involuntarily tightened around the grip, and Yang took a deep breath to calm herself. Ruby was fine; her sister was extremely talented. No way she'd be hurt so easily.

Taking a look down the nearby hole, she felt her eyes widened at just how deep it went. It was like a damn valley!

"Did she fall? Down there?" Weiss wondered aloud, and it seemed to be the only real conclusion to come to. Was Ruby okay? The fall _shouldn't_ have broken anything, given Ruby's aura and what not, but there was always a chance that it did. Were there Grimm down below? What if-

"Of course, how could I be so stupid?" Doctor Oobleck thought aloud- and he always seemed to think aloud. Still, eccentric professor or not, he was still a trained huntsman. They ought to pay attention. Deciding to bridge the gap in communication, Yang spoke.

"Doctor Oobleck, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong!? Mountain Glenn was Vale's first serious attempt at expansion, once home to _thousands_ of people- working people, all who commuted to and from the city of Vale using underground subways! When the Grimm danger grew too large, the population desperately searched for safety; they fled underground, and what did they find!?"

 _What?_

"Caves! The South-East quadrant of Vale is known for them!"

"Doc, _what_ are you trying to say?"

"We're not just looking for an underground crime network… _we're looking at an underground crime network!"_

"They've been working in caves?" Blake questioned, and Dr. Oobleck both shook his head no and sorta agreed. Nothing he did ever made sense!

"Not precisely. Mountain Glenn was doomed from the start; it lacked many of the natural defenses that allowed Vale to prosper. When the end drew near, its inhabitants fled underground into the many deep caves they had cleared out in preparation for the subway system; they cut themselves off from the surface."

"All cleared out… it had to have been leveled for the subway system, too," Weiss mentioned, her face growing grim. "We're practically looking at an open space, filled with buildings and plenty of storage space. These criminals aren't working in Caves, Blake. They're working with an infrastructure to match Vale."

"Precisely," Oobleck confirmed, approaching the hole and giving it a deep gaze. The only reason this underground city was abandoned is because an explosion opened up the mouth of another cavern, this one filled with subterranean Grimm. Vale soon closed their tunnels, creating the largest tomb in mankind's history." Yang bit her lip, imagining the horror. All cut off from safety, backs to the wall as endless hordes of Grimm approached.

"And, if Ruby is down there, we must find her. Quickly." Doctor Oobleck pulled out his weapon of choice, extending it into a sort of makeshift bat, before crouching in front of the hole and squinting. Well, Yang wasn't going to wait while Ruby was in danger. Leaping forward, she fell through the hole without much care, landing with a roll before popping up back to her feet, taking a glance around for any dangers.

There were none, so she looked for other relevant details. She heard the others land behind her a few moments after, but paid them no mind, instead giving the cave- and city, because she could see the towering buildings all around- a hard look. The buildings were all in ruins, sure, but they were still buildings that reached sixteen stories or taller.

"I can get us down to the surface quickly with my glyphs, but if anyone is watching, they'll probably see us," Weiss suggested, but Oobleck held up a hand to protest.

"We don't know where Miss Rose could be. Sif, Zwei, have you caught her scent?" Zwei made a scene of sniffing to try and pick it up, but Sif suddenly froze, his ears perking up and his head turning to stare below. He growled, turning to glance at Yang and leaping with an open maw, ripping Ruby's crescent Rose right from Yang's own grip.

While the group stayed in a mute shock, Sif rushed over to Weiss and undercut her legs out from beneath her, the Schnee heiress scrambling to get a proper seat on his back- only to scream in surprise when the wolf _leapt_ straight off the edge of the cliff-face they stood on.

"Weiss!" Yang yelled, approaching the edge and reaching out with a hand to stop Sif from killing the both of them, Of course, _then_ things started to make sense, because Weiss was using glyphs to create platforms for Sif to jump from as they rushed with a rapid pace towards the surface below.

"Guys… I hear something," Blake said aloud as they watched Weiss and Sif continue on, "it sounds like an engine."

"Of course," Oobleck exclaimed, "that's why Sif acted so quickly. We need to get to those tracks, now!" Well, Yang didn't need a red carpet to walk along, and as she leapt off the edge, she was suddenly thankful that initiation at Beacon involved coming up with an… innovative method of free-falling. Sure, she didn't have a launch pad to get her up to speed instantly, but she'd be able to reach the ground quickly enough.

The explosive rounds of Ember Celica helped thrust her forward and slow her descent towards the ground, and she didn't pay much attention to Blake and Oobleck behind her. Blake was a smart cookie, and Oobleck was a trained Huntsman. The two of them would figure out a way to get down there and quick.

She hit the ground about haflway towards the tracks she'd been able to spot from the previous cliff-face, and when her feet hit the ground, Yang sprinted with gusto. As the front of the train passed her, she kicked it up another gear,

She managed to hop on four or five carts ahead of the last, while Sif and Weiss landed around the middle. Giving a glance back, Yang internally cheered that Blake and Oobleck, plus Zwei, landed on the very back cart… and a very, very bad thought occurred to her.

What if Ruby _wasn't_ on this train? What if they had just _left_ her sister behind? No, no, she had to trust Sif; Sif loved being with Ruby. He had to have caught her scent, even from so far away. The Great Wolf came from Sibyl's universe- things from that place were weird.

So, no, Ruby was definitely on this train… somewhere.

Giving a glance around and not seeing that anyone had noticed her, Yang approached one of the nearest roof-panels and slammed her fist into it, breaking it open before jumping down. The room had five White Fang members in it, all _very_ alarmed to see her. Well, she wasn't going to give them time to process it: leaping forward, she slammed her fist into the nearest one, cracking his mask and sending him bouncing off the wall on the far side of the room. Turning to the other Fang member to her left and grabbing him by his shirt, she turned, flinging him over her shoulder and at the two grunts directly behind her. Finally, she extending an arm and pointed it at the one member who was scrambling for his gun, almost succeeding to pointing it at her before Ember Celica fired, sending him to the ground.

It was a brisk walk over to the two who had taken their friend's body to the chest, but when she arrived, she gave each a firm punch in the face that left them unconscious.

A brief clapping sound made her eyes widen, and when she glanced back over her shoulder, she saw the clapping came from that girl with the wild hair who had helped Roman escape when they last confronted him was standing there. Neo, was it?

"Where's my sister?" Yang growled, her hair beginning to glow. Neo just gave a silent smirk, raising one finger to her mouth in a _shushing_ motion. Oh, Yang was going to beat it out of her!

* * *

"What is that?" Blake wondered, but she, Oobleck, and hell, probably even _Zwei_ all knew what it was.

"That… is a bomb," the Doctor confirmed, and she felt her eyes involuntarily close at that. Of course it was a bomb; why wouldn't it be a bomb? A moment thereafter, she heard beeping. "Get to the next cart," Oobleck demanded, and Blake agreed, quickly rushing forward along with Zwei.

As they leapt forward, the cart behind them was released, and a few seconds as it rolled down the track, it _exploded._ A few seconds after that, and Grimm began piling through the hole above it that had been created. "Oh no…" A quick check on the cart beneath them revealed that it, _too_ had a bomb in a hatch atop it.

" _They're trying to lure Grimm to the city!"_ Both Oobleck and herself cried at once. They had to stop this train, _now._ A look ahead showed numerous White Fang members climbing atop the roof, presumably to try and stop them. Great…

* * *

Weiss hadn't _initially_ been sure why Sif had knocked her off her feet and onto his back, but once he had thrown the both of them off the cliff, she just worried about making sure they didn't die by using her glyphs. Then she had noticed the train, and realized Sif was just like Sibyl; they acted when something was wrong, no hesitation.

Unfortunately, now their numbers were split up; she and Sif were probably the furthest up the train. Of course, depending on who the criminals were on this train- and she was guessing the White Fang, naturally- the good news about not all of them being in one group is it made dealing with them both easier and harder.

Yes, they were separated, but so were whoever would be sent after them. Their flanks might be open to attacks and vice versa, yet as Huntresses and Huntsman, they were more equipped to deal with that, especially if everyone at least had a pair. Taking a deep breath, Weiss examined her surroundings while Sif adjusted Ruby's scythe in his mouth. His own sword stayed sheathed on his back; Sif didn't exactly have arms, after all.

There was a hatch on the roof of the cart, which seemed to be the only logical choice on where to go. Opening it and jumping in after Sif, Weiss was ready for anything to be in there- except nothing. The cart was completely empty of people, though there were plenty of items and whatnot everywhere. "Smell anything, Sif?" The wolf shook his head in the negative, and Weiss hummed.

They could go forward in the train or back. It seemed best to go back, help the others in-

Weiss flinched as the sound of an explosion sounded from the rear of the train. If there were bombs on this train, and they were heading for Vale… she and Sif had to stop this train as soon as possible. But what if Ruby was in one of those carts? "Sif, do you smell Ruby at all?"

The wolf sniffed the air around them before gesturing with his snout towards the front of the train. Perfect, they just had to go-

Weiss barely leaned backwards in time to avoid the throwing knife that flew right by her jugular, her eyes widening as she looked to _who_ exactly had thrown it. Whoever it was, they had to have been hiding. They weren't hiding now, though; no, instead, they were juggling a few indistinct throwing knives.

He tilted his head, glancing at the two of them and the door that would lead to the next cart ahead. The two of them could try to tag-team, but who knew how good her opponent was and how long he could delay them for? This train was going to breach Vale if they didn't stop it. Ruby was ahead, albeit it without her scythe… but Sif would be with her if the two advanced.

 _Gah!_ This whole situation was terrible, but she had to weigh things. Working with Sif might not even work out for her. They didn't know each other well enough for that; Sif and Sibyl practiced all the time, sparring and whatnot. Weiss had only fought with the wolf _once._

On the other hand, Sif had Ruby's scythe, and together, the two should be enough to deal with whoever was at the front of the train? …Was potentially risking her life, as well as the lives of Sif and Ruby, worth stopping this train?

She was a Huntress; they were all Huntresses! Their _job_ was to endanger themselves to protect those who couldn't.

With narrowed eyes and the shifting over her posture into a more-ready combat stance, Weiss spoke. "Sif, go ahead and find Ruby. Stop the train."

The Wolf growled in confirmation, rushing ahead but pausing upon looking at the door… _right,_ Sif didn't know how doors worked. Still, the wolf was nothing if not perceptive of that; he rushed backwards towards her, getting a running start and jumping through the ceiling panel they had dropped through, presumably to go further forward. It wasn't like he'd have trouble getting any of them open; with his sword, he could just cut or smash them open.

Sif was resourceful. He'd figure it out; her job was to deal with whoever this masked terrorist was.

"…I was hoping he'd leave. Now, I could tell you all about what I plan to do with you when I'm done, little Schnee. And I _am_ going to beat you, make no mistake. But still, I don't _want_ to tell you. It ruins the surprise, and the surprise is the best part."

"The funniest part about all of this? I'm not even doing this because I don't like you. It's all for _him."_ The masked man gave an evil, terrible laugh, and Weiss almost felt herself hesitate in her reply. But almost didn't matter.

"You remind me of my father, an arrogant child that masquerades as a man, someone who thinks that just because he says something means it _will_ happen. You also remind me why I _hate_ my father."

* * *

Ruby was stuck in a _box._ They had stuck her in a freakin' box, gag still on and hands and legs tied. Roman had thrown her in there with a bunch of blankets and told her to "sit tight." And, much as she had struggled to get free, it just wasn't happening. It was hard to say how long she had been there, but eventually, explosions had started to sound in the background

And she was just… _left in this box._ Left waiting and wondering what was going on, if anything would be resolved or not. There were some guards with her, too, but they didn't really speak too much.

…Hopefully her team had found out about her. Zwei had escaped; he would have went right back to them. They _had_ to know. It was just a matter of waiting.

As she stayed there, bound and trapped, she heard something slam open and clatter on the ground. It was followed by her guards shouting "what the hell," some gunshots, and the sound of bodies hitting the floor. A few moments later came a loud howling, a very distinct howling. It was _Sif,_ and he was right outside of where she was trapped.

Yelling through her gag and slamming her body against the side of the crate she was trapped within, she only had to wait a few moments before a much larger and stronger body slammed into it from the outside, knocking it and her sideways. The lid popped off and she slid out, glancing up with a smile at the sight of Sif, who had her precious, _precious_ Crescent Rose in his mouth.

The wolf wasted no time in approaching her, slicing with her own blade and cutting her bindings. She removed her gag, reaching out to hug the wolf. "Sif, I am _soo_ happy to see you! Where are the others?" He pawed at the ground, gesturing backwards a moment later with his snout. Oh, so they were split up? _Sif_ was the only one this far forward?

Well, that was fine! They needed to stop this train, and fast. She didn't know, uh… where it was going, but the explosions didn't sound good. The guards hadn't been surprised by it, either, so it had to be planned. They had received some sort of radio call about resistance at the back of the train, though…

Ruby had just assumed everyone was at the back, yet here Sif was, by himself.

Well, it would be enough. While Ruby wasn't exactly Sibyl when it came to working with the Great Wolf, her and Sif had spent a lot of time together and even sparred some. Together, the two of them were more than enough firepower to stop all of this… probably? "Right, well, good job, Sif! We need to stop this train, though." she mentioned, pausing briefly to grab her scythe and unfurl it, not wanting to be caught off guard. Thank goodness Sif had brought it. Those White Fang grunts had been right when they called her useless without her weapon… and that was something she was going to change.

Testing the weight of Crescent Rose, she couldn't help but smile. She nodded and moved with Sif up one more cart.

Roman Torchwick stood there, running a hand through his hair. "You know, Red, I tried to be nice. I tried to give you a nice cozy little space to just sit and _relax,_ but your little mutt here had to come and ruin it, not to mention your friends at the back."

"Well, that's it! No more Mr. Nice Guy. And please, put that thing down," he requested, gesturing towards her scythe, "it's embarrassing. Go plow some fields."

* * *

Sibyl was reflecting. Reflecting on what he was _doing_ here, precisely. Not so much as the place, but this _world._ His goal had never been to stay here, and yet, with each passing day, it had grown harder to resist. It was just… _nice._ Nice having friends who were always there; nice being wanted and needed by everyone as a person, not some sort of… _hero._

He hadn't even tried continuing his experiments on soul-sorcery recently. The desire to go back to Lordran had faded with each and every day; he found himself wishing he had pressured Ozpin harder upon his initial arrival, but what was an undead to do? These things couldn't be rushed… though perhaps he would check in soon.

It was a difference between here in Lordran, Sibyl supposed. A difference he _still_ hadn't realized. In Lordran, time was a given; it was both unmoving and forever changing. Sitting around and waiting for someone to get back to you was just how it went. You got someone's word, and you assumed they had the honor to be held to it.

Ozpin was undoubtedly using all the resources at his disposal to try and gather information on Lordran. The possibility that there simply _wasn't any_ was something the undead had considered, and it seemed to be the reality. Glynda surely would have told him otherwise. Still, it wouldn't hurt to check, would it? At least then he might be able to lie to himself and say that getting back to Lordran was still something he was _trying_ to do.

Sighing, the undead leaned back against his bench, crossing his arms as he watched the morning sun rise. At least he had brought some of Lordran with him. Pyromancy and sorcery… the former more than the latter, honestly. Pyromancy was _born_ in Lordran, in Izalith. He had brought a piece of the Chaos Flame with him upon his arrival, and just as fire was meant to spread, he had sought to teach Yang.

Gah, all this mindless meditative thought wasn't his style; he needed to go and _do_ something.

Sibyl made to stand, giving a glance to the sky above… and squinting his eyes to try and see what circled above. A raven? Or… perhaps it was a crow. The latter was something worth noting… or perhaps a coincidence. This was another world, after all. Crows were hardly a precursor to anything, much less Velka's will.

Enough of this paranoia- he was simply nervous because Weiss and the others were gone. A trip into town might do him good; maybe another trip to that bookstore he visited previously? Anything would suffice, honestly… anything to get his mind off the nervous feeling in his gut.

And so, he sought a transport into the city, giving one long look to the crow above that had to be waiting for a corpse to be left well alone, so it might feast.

Sibyl wouldn't realize it until long after, but the crow above was circling _him_

* * *

He was good. Weiss hated to admit it, but the masked thug in front of her was very, very good. She had suspected he'd be better than most just by his demeanor, but he really was something else. Her head flinched backwards to avoid a knife's blade from slicing across her eyes, and she barely had any time after that to step back and give a prodding thrust with her rapier towards his lower section. It succeeded in making him tuck back the leg he had planned on tripping her with.

That was how he fought. Everything was meant to create another opening to take advantage of. He seemed to know that he wasn't faster than her, and he also knew he wasn't necessarily stronger. But there was one thing he was better at than her. The masked bastard was far more graceful.

He didn't fight; he flowed. It was a style that had given her no small amount of frustrations since she arrived. She gritted her teeth at the reminder of another girl who always seemed to best her that fought in the exact same way. It wasn't something that could be taught, not really. And, finding people who were just… gifted at it, infuriated her. More than anything else, even.

She worked so very, very hard and could hardly even scratch either of them.

As her opponent stopped in his combat, staring at her with a tilted head before juggling his knives in front of her, something broke. Weiss screamed, dashing forward and striking with repeated blows that came faster than anyone had the right to keep track of.

Yet, every strike missed. Every cut, every thrust, every slash _missed._ All her days of training, all her endless hours of bleeding, of fighting with her sister and father to do just _this,_ meant nothing. She just wasn't good enough. She wasn't _perfect,_ and she was facing someone that was.

A thrust of her blade straight at his face A close miss. She flicked her wrist, the blade coming down diagonally to slice through his damn neck. He ducked, striking out with a knife at her abdomen like a coiled snake. She twisted out of the way- or rather, tried to. The stinging feeling across her stomach was a reminder that she had failed.

Taking a leap backwards with the use of her glyphs, she was unable to stop herself from tracing the line along her stomach. It was bleeding, though her aura was taking care to try and stop it. The masked man shook his head, giving a pitying laugh.

"So," he began, walking slowly forward in a sauntering manner, "when I have you beaten, what do you want removed first? Your eyes, or even better, that pretty, pretty hair?" Weiss didn't rise to the bait, instead shifting into a combat ready stance and evening her breath. ' _Calm down, Weiss. You're a Schnee.'_ Schnee's didn't get angry, much less about thugs.

She needed to use her mind. There were more options than just her blade thrusts to deal with him. Her weapon served as far more than just a rapier, after all. Dust could touch him even if she couldn't, especially in this room. A blast of fire would leave him with nowhere to go. Changing the cylinder on her weapon, she didn't let her eyes leave the masked man who looked almost bored.

"Careful. All the other carts had bombs in them… what makes you so sure this one doesn't?" That… was a valid point. Well, there were other options, all she needed to do-

A knife came flying forward at her, and she parried it to the side with practiced ease. Of course, following the knife was a madman, rushing at her with the intent to stop whatever her plan had been. "I gave you a chance for a good surprise… and you wasted it." The Heiress was left scrambling in defense; he only had one knife at this point, but his fists and kicks still packed a massive punch.

Every prodding strike she made, every attempt to create distance failed. He stayed within her reach, almost constantly trying to disarm her. She knew why; if he managed to do that, this fight would end without much ceremony. She grunted as a kick slammed into her side, and all she managed to get in return was a glancing cut across his waist. He was bleeding now, but he also didn't seem to _care._

She needed to do something, quick. The more pressing question was _how_ to do so. He seemed aware of how she fought and made it a point of retreating anytime she even thought about using some of the dust at her disposal. Perhaps speeding things up would work; he was graceful, but he wasn't as fast as she was.

A small crack in his assault gave her the opportunity she needed; a slash at his neck forced him to take a step back, and Weiss quickly retreated with the use of her glyphs, throwing herself back and against one of the far walls onto another glyph.

She thought about saying something witty, a quick one-liner… but instead, she just smirked. This would drain her, but she needed to end this fight quickly.

Like lightning, she struck, forcing herself off the wall with a massive burst of speed. She gave a small frown when her opponent barely avoided her strike, getting a small cut on his outfit and little else. Of course, this was a trap now: she would slice him to ribbons with a thousand cuts.

Barely a half second had passed when she struck again, flying off the far wall with another glyph and getting a cut on his thigh that actually drew blood. He gave a wild slash with his knife, but it missed. Again and again she struck, bouncing off her glyphs and ignoring the sweat beading down her face.

Cuts began to add up; what was once three or four cuts were now two dozen, and her opponent was getting more and more furious. Still, he kept his silence, instead trying to get her with his knife every time she shot past. He had managed one grazing slice, but little else.

His defense grew sloppier and sloppier, and as both of their breathings got more ragged, she realized he _still_ might outlast her. As she graced his chest with her blade and he nicked her ankle, Weiss readied to freeze him. Bouncing back, she aimed for his face this time; something she hadn't done in awhile, given that it was the hardest thing to hit.

The explosion of ice that came when he realized what she was doing, bringing up an arm to protect his face, was massive. Frost filled the air and Weiss stepped back, waiting for it to clear. When it did, his whole body was encased in ice. She laughed, unable to stop from feeling smug. She'd _won,_ and he was left encased in ice, unable to do-

Weiss squinted, because she swore there was… _something_ happening to him within her ice. It only took a moment before she realized his clothes had fire crystals dust lined with it. And as a small, but _more_ than enough explosion to get rid of all her ice occurred, she barely avoided a shard of ice from impaling her in the stomach.

"…You… you _bitch!"_ Her adversary screeched, his mask cracked but not broken. His hands were flinched into fists, and the smirk that was previously on Weiss's face had faded completely. "I am going to end you! I will hang you by your entails; I am going to pull your hair out and leave your scalp a bloody mess! I'll cut off your fingers and shove them into your empty eye sockets! Not even your family will recognize you!"

Weiss barely managed to parry his first outraged strike, and the kick he sent slammed painfully into her side. She ducked beneath a punch only to find herself thrown backwards by a follow-up roundhouse kick that she'd barely even seen him send at her.

Sent skidding across the ground, she barley scrambled back to her feet to avoid the knife that slammed right into where her chest was. He rushed at her again, and she just… _thrusted_ her rapier. It slammed into something; in fact, it slammed straight through something. It was in his stomach, she realized.

His face was inches from her own, and she could smell his ragged breath even through that mask. "That," he declared, reaching forward with a hand and grabbing her by her neck, "wasn't very," he lifted her up, taking a step forward before slamming her backwards onto the ground, her cranium nearly cracking at the force, " _nice."_

She could barely even think, see, or _hear._ Her mind vaguely registered a sharp pain in her stomach, and when her head twitched forward slightly she realized it was because he had stabbed her with her own rapier and _sliced._ Her stomach was sliced open.

Weiss should have been in shock, angry… in pain, but she wasn't. Or did that mean she was in shock? It didn't matter. Vaguely she watched as her adversary stood up over her, turning around and walking to retrieve a knife.

It was very tempting to lay there. To not move, to close her eyes, to _sleep,_ but she didn't. No, a shaking hand- and she wasn't even sure if it was _her_ hand. She couldn't feel it, just barely register it in her vision. The hand grabbed the catalyst at her side. Logan's catalyst, one Sibyl had given her.

She loved Sibyl. Was he okay? Was he worried about them? She nearly giggled at the thought- given the condition she was in, he _should_ be worried. The man above her was about to kill her brutally, and she could hardly even think enough to feel fear about it.

Still, he had turned his back to her. That wasn't very nice, and she was going to make him pay. Was she going to die? Her aura was almost drained. She was bleeding out of her stomach and out of a lot of other places. Was she going to die, before she became a huntress? Was she _really_ going to have her fingers cut off and shoved into her eyeholes?

Was Sibyl going to be able to recognize her corpse?

Vaguely, she felt the hand- and she was fairly certain it was her hand, at this point- grasp the shaft of Logan's catalyst. She raised it up, ignoring the burning feeling in her whole body when she did. Oddly, it was really easy to imagine a Soul Spear. The diameter, the size, the _force_ she wanted. It was all so very, very easy to imagine.

That made it easy to cast, and as the teal spear shot forward- it was the largest she'd created, Weiss realized idly- she could feel her eyes close. She didn't hear the deafening crack of a Soul Spear slamming into something, but she certainly felt the cart-shaking quake of a soul spear slamming into something. She smiled.

* * *

Neo, and Yang did remember that her name was Neo, was playing with her. It was obvious, but more than that, it was annoying. Yang knew what it was like to get her ass beat, but there was a difference between Sibyl and Pyrrha doing it versus this girl. The other two, no matter the circumstances, prided themselves in efficiency. They didn't play with their food; they just ate it.

And, maybe most annoying, was the fact that Neo refused to _actually_ hit her. Instead, the girl just dodged every attempting Yang tried. It left the blonde feeling like a four year old, trying to pound away at someone who had their hand on her head, holding her back with a yawn. "Why won't you stay still!" Yang demanded, striking out with a punch only to have the umbrella-wielding girl give her a cheeky smile, parrying the blow with her umbrella before leaning back with unbelievable grace to avoid a Combustion cast to her face. It was infuriating that even Yang's newest tricks weren't helping.

This… charade had been going on for long enough, and as embarrassing as it was to admit, Yang was getting _tired._ As another one of her fists missed, she found her desire to continue fighting slow. "Why… why aren't you actually fighting me?" The girl, Neo, tilted her head, tapping her chin for a few moments before shrugging.

What? Think I'm a joke!?" Yang gritted out, unable to stop her hair from lighting up. Neo stared for a long few moments before shaking her head, a small frown on her face. She gestured for her ears and made a cupping motion.

Yang, still cautious, vaguely listened… and heard nothing, really. She heard fighting up on the roofs, but outside of that, it was pretty silent. Raising an eyebrow, Yang prepared to say something before she heard a very distinct noise.

The shatter of a Soul Arrow. Neo blinked, turning to look at Yang before sort of vaguely gesturing in that direction. "What… what is your deal? You're working with Roman, you're trying to blow up Vale! You should be trying to kill me, stop me from preventing this!"

Neo gave her a small wave, nothing else, before disappearing with a shattering of glass. Growling in frustration, Yang shook her head. Weiss was a few carts ahead, unless Sibyl had somehow gotten here, which she both didn't doubt as possible and _also_ really doubted. Ignoring the oddity of Neo, Yang began breaching through doors, giving each room a brief glance before finally she reached a room that looked like a battle zone, blood and-

Weiss? Yang blinked and her jaw unhinged. Weiss was on the ground, knocked out. She was bleeding- she was bleeding everywhere! Not giving another second of thought, Yang rushed across the room, sliding to a stop right in front of Weiss. Her own rapier was stuck through her stomach! A shaky hand checked her pulse, and Yang almost breathed a sigh of relief that she was still alive.

She didn't breath that sigh of relief, though, because it looked like she might die at _any moment!_ What was Yang supposed to do? Remove the rapier? Ignoring the rapidly forming tears that began splattering against Weiss's body, Yang tried to examine the wound more closely. She tried to do some breathing exercises as she saw that someone had _cut Weiss open._ It couldn't just be a simple stab, could it? No, it had to be this!

Well, it looked like removing her weapon wouldn't cause much more harm, so Yang did so gingerly, unable to stop from wincing at the slimy schlinking sound it made as she pulled it out.

Setting it onto the ground- and it landed with a clatter, because her own damn hands were shaking so hard that just setting something down was difficult, Yang thought about what to do. She had a bunch of small cuts all over her body, and it had to be adding up quickly. Yang _had_ to do something, or she was about to lose a teammate. She had to do something, or _Sibyl_ would lose a girlfriend, and the world would lose one of the few people who gave enough of a shit to try and be a Huntress and protect it.

Yang closed her eyes, breathing in deeply and trying to ignore the tinged smell of blood that was all across the room. Could… was there enough cloth to tie around the wound? No; Weiss wore her stupid skirt and Yang wore freakin' shorts. Weiss's shirt was also cut to hell, so removing it to try and tie around her stomach was a bad idea, and also: what the hell was she going to do about the rest of the cuts?!

The room was also _freezing,_ though it had become harder for Yang to notice these things since Sibyl gave her pyromancy.

…Pyromancy. Pyromancy was the only way to save Weiss. Conjuring a flame, Yang finally saw more than just the damaging factor of the flame. It could protect, it could save people. It was going to save Weiss… it had to.

Yang glanced around for a few seconds, breathing in relief when she saw a discarded knife that had fresh blood on it. It would work. Cauterizing wounds… you were supposed to heat the metal, right?

The only good thing about Weiss's stomach incision is that it was… mostly precise. Her blade was sharp, so when whatever asshole had dragged it across Weiss's stomach, the flesh was still close enough together. Not enough for her to just… press the blade against it, but it wasn't too messy. Yang didn't breath as she kept her flame in her hand, the warmth it provided about the only thing that kept her from throwing up.

The knife's metal was directly on the flame, and Yang watched as it began to rapidly heat. How hot was she supposed to make it? Probably… probably not red hot, but it had to be pretty hot, right? Yang closed her eyes, breathing in deep as she tried to _think._ They'd never really been taught about it- usually, aura took care of wounds, but Weiss was so low on aura there was nothing her aura _could_ do.

Eventually, the blade got hot enough, and Weiss had bled out enough that Yang figured it would work. Hopefully. It had to work. It was hard to get her hands to stop shaking, but she managed to do it. For Weiss, she managed to do it.

Using her other hand to… to _pinch_ the edges of Weiss's cut together, she pressed the blade against it for a solid two seconds and no more. Instantly, Weiss spasmed with a cry, struggling against the pain. Yang gave some nonsensical words to try and calm Weiss, but it was clear the girl wasn't exactly _awake._

She didn't know exactly how long to keep the blade pressed, so she kept pulling it back to check. Eventually, it… it looked like the job had been done? For a small area, anyways. Yang was going to have to keep cauterizing it. It went across her whole stomach. Someone had cut across Weiss's _whole stomach._

It seemed to go on forever, but eventually, Yang was made to wince at the sight of about one fourth of Weiss's wound being cauterized together. The skin around was suffering from first and early second-degree burns, that much she could tell. It was also… _ugly._ She hated to be mean, but it was a scar that belonged on Sibyl's body. Hell, she was pretty sure there _was_ a similar scar on Sibyl's body.

Yang tried to stop herself from crying, mostly so she wouldn't shake as she completed the same process with another one fourth of Weiss's wound. She wished she could have just done it all at once, just a quick line across that would leave the wound closed, but Weiss hadn't been shot. She'd been cut open like an _animal._

Weiss's nonstop struggling didn't do much to make her feel better about it, and when Yang finally finished and Weiss continued to cry in her sleep, the blonde threw up. Not _on top_ of Weiss thankfully, but she threw up all over the place, tears mixing in with the nasty slush.

Weiss… if Yang had kept fighting Neo, Weiss would be _dead._ Neo… Neo had saved Weiss. What in Izalith? What was going on, why was everything so insane! Why couldn't anything _make sense!_ Yang scooted closer to Weiss, biting her lip as she debated on what to do. She… should she leave Weiss there on the floor?

Yang lifted up Weiss's head, wincing at the sight of a blood splotch in her white hair. So, she might have brain damage on top of everything. Great. Yang breathed deep, maneuvering the girl's head to rest on her lap. Yang was going to stay right here; she couldn't move Weiss, and she wasn't going to leave her. Running a hand along her face, she realized that Weiss wasn't exactly _warm._ Well, Yang could fix that. Pulling the girl even closer and ignoring the blood that began to seep into her own clothes, the vixen reached out with her hand and conjured the largest flame she could manage in front of the both of them.

...They couldn't stay here. The train was going to crash and being further back in the line of carts would put them more in danger from the Grimm following behind. Getting a grip of the girl laying in front of her, Yang held her bridal style and began making her way forward in the train.

"We're… we're gonna be alright, Weiss. You hear me? We're going to be _fine."_

Yang didn't know who the words were meant to comfort.

* * *

Roman would have sighed if he was able. Instead, he was left ducking beneath the sword swing of a freakin' _wolf._ Who the hell taught a wolf how to wield a sword, anyways? Roman had faced the not-so-little mutt once before, but that _had_ been behind the safety of a giant mech. Dodging a great sword wielded by a gigantic, grey wolf in person?

Slightly more intimidating.

Little Red wasn't making things much easier, either. She might not have been aiming to kill like her pet, but she was trying to beat his ass. Even _he_ was having trouble dealing with the both of them… but he wouldn't have to deal with either of them for too much longer. The train should be arriving soon enough, and hopefully all the girls were in alright shape.

Chester… the bastard worried him. He could ruin the carefully laid plan if he killed one of them, and Roman didn't put it past the sociopath to do it.

Dodging a slice of Crescent Rose that seemed meant to cut off his back ankle and leave him on the ground, Roman retaliated with a swing of his cane, backhanding Ruby across the room with the move. Sif's slash cut across the side of his waist, eliciting a grunt from Roman, but he wasn't in too bad of shape. They'd been going at it for a little bit, and if Roman was right, then very, very soon, their train would be crashing into a wall.

It was easier to keep it going since he wasn't _really_ trying to retaliate. It also helped that he really _did_ need to just concentrate on dodging. Ruby wasn't a problem, really. It was the damn wolf.

Parrying a blow of Sif's sword, Roman stepped forward and kicked, catching Ruby in her stomach and sending her back again. Honestly? This was a bit of fun, stretching his legs and beating up kids. Not too harsh, of course, but it was good to see he still had enough in the tank to give a dog and a girl some trouble.

"Come on, you have to have-"

The door to the cart opened. All eyes went there, and there was a shared gasp. Right, well, Roman didn't _gasp,_ because he wasn't a teenage girl, but he did clear a lump in his throat. Not because the sight was too grizzly for him- Roman had blown the head's off a few people before. No, he cleared his lump because of _who_ was injured.

The Schnee girl was being held by the golden-haired vixen, and she did _not_ look good. Her whole outfit was bloodied and in tatters. "You," the gauntlet-wearing huntress declared with hatred, "one of your little stooges did this!" Her hair was on fire, and Roman took an unsteady step backwards.

He knew exactly who had done it, too. Chester, that fucking _sociopath,_ had nearly killed the Schnee. It wasn't something he had considered as an option, but it made perfect sense. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if Cinder had _told_ him to kill one of them, especially the Schnee.

"Look, kid, I have no more control over that psycho than-"

Roman didn't have time to blink when Sif shot at him like a bullet. Really, it was the fasted he'd ever seen the wolf move, enough to even take him by surprise. He barely managed to raise a hand to grab the thing's jaws and stop it from ripping out his throat.

"Sif, stop!" Little Red demanded, her voice as firm as it was ever going to get, given she was like, thirteen. The Wolf stopped trying to tear his throat out after another brief second of struggle, but the growling didn't stop.

"Why? Why should Sif stop!? Weiss might _die,_ Ruby! Because of him!" Right, well, the blonde wasn't doing much to help his case.

"…They wanted to kill me too, Yang, but he stopped them." Roman nodded to himself at that, glad Ruby had an ounce of reason and mercy. He was also thankful he had, 'ya know, stopped them from killing Ruby, because otherwise he was dead.

Roman gave a breath of relief as Sif removed himself from his body, though the wolf stayed ready to pounce at a moment's notice. "Listen," Roman began, slowly forcing himself up into a seated position. "Thing's are… complicated, at the moment. Me and Neo, we're not exactly picking roses with the people who want Vale up in flames."

They all paused at that, giving him a scrutinizing stare. A few moments later, a hatch above the cart they were in was kicked open, Blake and some… _dog_ fell to the floor in a hurry. Great, the gang was all together! Chester was out of commission, otherwise the Weiss girl _would_ be dead. Maybe, just maybe, Roman would get a chance to explain that, while he was a bastard, he wasn't _that_ big of a bastard.

"Get down, we're about to-" Blake yelled out as soon as her shocked eyes got a hold of everyone in the room, though he didn't think she was _really_ talking about him. Though, he had a good idea about what was about to happe-

* * *

The trip into town had done absolutely nothing to calm him. In fact, the more time that passed, his anxiety built. It wasn't that he didn't trust the girls; Sibyl trusted them very much. It was just… _trouble_ followed them, just as it did him. Plus, he had spotted no small amount of crows today. A foreboding sign, most definitely.

If the crows weren't a bad sign, the way his flame had been feeling for the past hour and a half or so was. Nothing too bad, just a simple… uncanny feeling, similar to when Laurentius had gone missing back in Lordran.

He was dressed in his hard-leather wear, complete with the accompanying open-faced helmet and a bandaged eye. Weiss had taught him to apply his own makeup, and the lines that he feared so much were of no worry. A Silver Knight Straight Sword rested at his hip and was the primary reason he wasn't sitting on a nearby bench, instead leaning up against a wall.

Tracking the crows hadn't been too hard, given as they near always stayed within his eyeline, but when they had gotten here… well, they mostly stopped. People milled about, a few giving him odd looks but not saying too much. He wasn't much odder than your average huntsman, he supposed.

Sibyl blinked, because something had landed on his shoulder cauldron. One of the crow's had, to be precise. And it was staring at him, eyes unblinking. Sighing, the undead turned his head to the sky and said a silent prayer. Something was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon.

As the crow gave a cry of goodbye and took towards the sky, the Chosen Undead pushed himself off his wall, unsheathing his blade.

A moment later, the wall directly in front of him _exploded,_ and Sibyl cursed as he realized why the crows had been circling. There were about to be a lot of corpses. A few metal carts- pieces of a train, Weiss had informed him with pictures long ago- had fallen past the initial explosion, laying on their sides in the middle of the resting area.

It took a few seconds, but Grimm began escaping through the now-broken wall, including a gigantic King Taijitu which buried out from the ground. As an Ursa charged forward and leapt at some teenaged couple that had made the mistake of going on a walk today, Sibyl inserted himself, conjuring a great combustion and sending the beast down.

"Come at me beasts!" He declared, glancing around at as many Grimm as he could find- and, just like back on that trip he had taken with Professor Port, they all seemed to… lock on to him, ignoring everyone else around.

Of course, it didn't get _all_ the Grimm, just the ones he looked at… but it would be enough to hopefully let some of those around him get away. Perhaps if he flared the abyss in his eye, it might draw all of them around... but he swore not to use the damn darkness, and besides, all that attention would be too much for even him to deal with.

As a Beowolf tried to claw out his eyes, he stepped aside and brought his blade upwards, beheading it in one swift motion before turning his palm outward, a spray of fire coming out and doing a decent job of crowd control.

He was the only one here capable of dealing with _anything_ right now! His eyes glanced to the left and he saw an Ursa rapidly approaching a mother and their child. Damn it all; ignoring the claws of a Beowolf slashing across his waist, he tried to make his way towards the two.

But they were everywhere! For every-one he cut down, blasted away with a fireball or a great combustion, more joined in. He got multiple wounds across the courtyard, but they were hardly worth mentoning. Sibyl lost track of the mother and daughter momentarily, an Ursa blocking his path. Stepping back, he avoided a wild swing before following up with two rapid slashes in an x, the beast's body falling forward.

Cursing, the undead leapt over the body, sliding to a stop and conjuring Fire Storm on the ground beneath him. Grimm in groups went flying up in the air, but it didn't matter; there were simply too many for him to deal with alone! Regardless, it cleared him a path towards the mother and child-

Were he a weaker man, he might have shut his one good eye at the sight. The child backed against a wall, watching as an Ursa had slashed her mother into two barely connected halves, blood spilling everywhere. There was no scream, no cries. The woman was dead, pure and simple.

Sibyl, however, was not a weak man, and so he charged forward as the beast turned its vision to the child. Giving it a tackle, the two made a visible imprint into the wall; not wasting a moment, Sibyl stepped back, thrusting with his blade upwards and into the throat of the beast. It died, but that was hardly a comfort for the child who just witnessed her mother died. And Sibyl knew.

He had saved this one child, and at the same time, a numerous number of those around had died. Still, the girl was behind him, and the Grimm were now focused on him. He had failed to save the both of them, but he could save the girl.

"S-Sibyl!" Came the cry of Blake, and it was the first good thing he'd heard in awhile. They were safe, the girls were safe.

* * *

Blake was numb as they climbed out of the rubble of the wreckage, following towards the light that was a few carts ahead at most. Weiss was in Yang's hands, and no one had any idea if the wreck had affected her any worse than her current condition. What had happened to Weiss, anyways? She was extremely capable, and Sif _had_ been with her.

Nobody was speaking as they moved through the flipped over center carts, nobody dumb enough to try and go outside. Grimm were moving in massive herds, just a stream of black outside the windows. It was a wonder they hadn't been discovered and killed yet.

Eventually, moving through enough of the carts, they got a glimpse of outside. And it wasn't pretty- there was numerous Grimm everywhere, more than a few dead bodies, though not as many as she might have first expected. Alarms were blaring, but they were nothing compared to the screams and cries.

"…What do we do with Weiss?" Yang wondered silently, eyes stuck on the outside of the cart. They needed to go help- they were huntresses, but… Weiss was injured. They couldn't just leave her.

"Someone needs to stay here with her," Ruby declared, doing her best to stay strong for all of them. Sif gave a silent growl, unsheathing his blade and taking a sitting position.

"What if the Grimm see her?" Yang mentioned, giving the girl in her arms a long look, "She'll be trapped in here with just Sif, and I don't know if that's-"

"What are we _supposed_ to do, Yang?" Blake hissed, leaning in close. "Weiss is our friend, I know we want to keep her safe, but people are dying out there right now! We can't all just stay here with Weiss. We're huntresses. We're supposed to help _everyone._ "

Nobody said anything for a long moments, and Blake knew she had won- and what a hollow victory it was- when Yang slowly laid Weiss on the floor, Sif lowering himself to the ground and prodding at her with his nose.

"…You're right. It's just… I'm scared," Yang admitted, rubbing at her arm. "We already lost mom, we _almost_ lost you and Sibyl, and now… now Weiss is…" Blake laid a hand on Yang's shoulder and squeezed in comfort.

"We're all scared, Yang. But Weiss is strong. If me and Sibyl made it, she can make it. I know it."

They all unsheathed their weapons and took a deep breath, moving towards the front of the cart and charging out under the sound of the blaring alarm. Ruby went left, Blake went right, and Yang went ahead, brawling with the Grimm at random.

It was a lot different from initiation. Dealing with Grimm in this number, with this panic in the air… it was just different. It was something that was hard to describe, but… everything just _happened._ Blake didn't think when she saw a group fleeing up the street, she just acted, speeding by as fast as she could to try and stop the Grimm from killing them.

The Cat Faunus didn't even register when she stepped over a corpse or _on one._ There was just too much happening at once, and her mind was in a constant state of _react react react._

Or, it was until she saw an unmistakable sight. Columns of chaos fire, Grimm rising with it high into the air. "S-Sibyl!" She screamed, rushing across the courtyard and tearing through Grimm all the while. One tried to take off her head and she slid, slicing off its neck with one clean move before continuing to rush towards him.

He was a killing _machine._ Damn near half the Grimm in the area were focused on him, and he just… cut them all down. Fireballs were thrown at a rapid fire pace, his straight sword cut through necks and body alike without much trouble, and any hits he took he shrugged off or straight up _ignored._ He was bleeding profusely from his shoulder, but it didn't impair his swings.

Idly, she noticed there was someone behind her. A little Faunus girl, standing next to a corpse. Again, in another situation, she might cry, avert her eyes…. But instead, Blake continued to act, working her way towards Sibyl without hesitation. He didn't greet her, but she did see his eyes flicker towards her.

He absorbed a claw to the chest before punching with his free hand- or, so she thought. When his fist exploded, she realized he'd really just been palming a fireball to the Beowolf's chest. "Where's Weiss?" Was the first thing he asked, swinging with his sword sideways and cutting thorough an Ursa's outstretched arm.

"She's… hurt. Really bad," Blake explained, deciding to be frank. Now wasn't the time to be cute. Time seemed to pause for just a moment, as Sibyl's abyssal eye almost _exploded_ before he reigned it in.

"W-Where is she?" He demanded, not even reacting when a Beowolf caught his back with its claws. He acted thereafter, though, slicing its head off.

"In the entrance cart, where all the Grimm are coming from."

Sibyl turned away from her, approaching the swarm of Grimm. "Keep the child safe."

* * *

Weiss was hurt. Sibyl didn't register much else in his mind except that. Weiss was hurt, and she was in danger. He barely noticed when armored men began to drop from the sky, reinforcements that they so desperately needed arriving. He idly noticed Yang and Ruby stirring up trouble, and he only just heard the arrival of Nora and her team.

Certainly, though, all of them heard and saw him, because he didn't just _make his way_ towards where Weiss was, he cleared a path. He had forgone his longsword, returning it to his waist. It wasn't sufficient for the type of widespread damage he needed to yield. Instead, he had retrieved his catalyst, and an endless swathe of spells and pyromancies kept the masses back.

He even used a spell he swore never to use. A spell that only Logan, in his madness, had used. White Dragon Breath tore through the Grimm, the crystals forming violently and blasting those in its path backwards. It left him very drained, but he could deal with being drained later.

The most important thing to consider is that they were making progress. He was getting closer and closer to Weiss's cart, and the Grimm were thinning, even if it didn't feel like it. Eventually, he got close enough he could see her, and the sight made his breath chill. He was so distracted that an Ursa even managed to get past his defenses, and he barely tilted his head away in time to save it from getting removed. His helmet had long ago been removed due to a few other swipes, so this attack was actually dangerous enough to have him worry.

He felt a very sharp, painful stinging in his left ear, and he realized that was because it had been removed. He was now without a left ear. Growling, a cast of great combustion ended the Ursa's life, but Sibyl could feel himself slipping. There had to have been a few dozen more scars all across his body now, including a deep cut across his cheek.

But Weiss was so close. He had to get her to safety- he had to. Somehow, they'd plug the hole all the Grimm were coming from. They might not even know Weiss was in the cart- and why would they suspect that? And if she got trapped down there with them… she would die.

Sibyl didn't even think about Weiss's appearance as he entered the cart and grabbed her, holding her close enough to try and _hear_ her heartbeat. It was impossible to do so over the roar of the alarms. Regardless, he exited the cart, aware of Sif at his side protecting the both of them. He tucked his head and _ran,_ ignoring the numerous Grimm that attacked him. He ignored cut after cut, didn't pay any mind to the cut that damaged his back left leg. All of it was irrelevant compared to getting Weiss to safety.

He couldn't even fight his way back, because he had to hold her carefully. She was so hurt… he had to protect her with his whole body. If he tried to hold her one handed, tried to use his pyromancy, all it would take is one lucky swing. He couldn't allow it, so instead, he curled himself forward and _ran._ And it worked; he was an undead, naturally hardy. The Grimm's attacks hardly bothered him. Or at least, compared to the thought of failure, they hardly bothered him.

Eventually, after enough time running, things calmed down. He couldn't hear anything to his left, and only vaguely to his right. Everything was ringing, and there were dark spots in his vision. Slowly, he fell to his knees, carefully laying Weiss down on the ground and examining her more closely. He reached two fingers to feel her pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when there was one, however faint.

Someone grabbed his shoulder, but he forcefully shrugged them off, instead examining Weiss's injuries more closely. The more profound was a deep cut on her stomach, one that ran near all the way across and looked to have been cauterized. Yang, he realized idly. Yang must have used her pyromancy to do so.

She had numerous small cuts everywhere, and she was bleeding at the back of her head. Or, well, somewhere on her head she was bleeding. It was hard to tell. Everything was fading to black, and he could only barely hear his own words.

" _Weiss,"_ he whispered, falling gently beside her and pulling the Schnee Heiress close, "please live. Please."

With those words, his consciousness faded.

* * *

Everything was awful, Blake decided. They had sealed the patch- numerous teams from Beacon had shown up, plus the Atlas's military quick response had helped dampen the damages. The fact of the matter was, though, people had died. Not as many as might have, primarily thanks to Sibyl being on the scene at the beginning, as well as team RWBY thereafter, but people still died.

And, while the Atlas military and a few other Beacon teams were busy helping civilians and cleaning up the… messy places, Blake's own attention- as well as a great many others- were on Sibyl and Weiss. A small girl, the Faunus girl Sibyl had saved, refused to leave his side, too.

Team CFVY hovered around as well. Where the hell was a transport? The both of them needed medical attention, immediately. Sibyl was missing an _ear,_ not to mention was bleeding from… well, basically everywhere. Weiss… Weiss was even worse, somehow. Every moment that passed made Blake more and more worried that they wouldn't make it, and that was the worst part about it.

Eventually, a transport did arrive to pick the two up. Nobody gave well wishes or anything like that- the mood was way too depressing for it. Instead, everyone just… _did_ what they could to clean up the area. Team RWBY was permitted to go back, but even team JNPR was made to stay. There were too many wounded; Sibyl and Weiss were just two of many.

Blake couldn't help but shudder as she remembered Sibyl carving his path. Every hit she'd thought would kill him, but he just shrugged them off. He was like an actual Huntsman, capable of clearing out practically hundreds of Grimm by himself. It wasn't an outrageous feat- Glynda was capable of much the same, and in fact, the final pushback of the Grimm had really occurred when she arrived.

Still… at least Sibyl hadn't touched the abyss for all of this.

They were in a waiting room now, waiting for them to wake up. It was the second time Blake had been in this position, and it was awful.

It was _awful._

* * *

She was never going to be able to hear again. That was what the doctors had told her- or rather, tried to tell her. They had to write it out on some paper for her to see, to actually understand. She was deaf. The blow that masked thug had landed when he slammed her against the ground, combined with her low aura at the time, had led to serious damage to her brain. The doctors had told her she was lucky that her hearing was all that seemed to be wrong with her.

She didn't feel very lucky.

Weiss was deaf. It felt weird to think, but as she strained her ears to hear anything- _anything, literally anything,_ from her heartbeat to Sibyl's breathing, her own breathing, _literally_ anything, it was impossible. There was no noise. Was her heart even beating anymore? She rested a hand on her own chest, the soft vibration of her heart a small comfort. Still, life wasn't supposed to be like this. Life was _filled_ with noise.

There were supposed to be cars honking, birds singing, insects chirping, something! The wind was supposed to blow, people should be up late talking outside! Instead, where noise was supposed to be, was an all-encompassing silence that refused to end. It was… the silence was _loud,_ if she had to describe it. It wasn't like being in a room by yourself at night. No, it was just… _nothing._

She was deaf. Her, the Schnee Heiress, someone who was supposed to be the pinnacle, was supposed to be perfect- it was why she had been given private tutors in everything, why she had straight A's in all her classes, why she tried to hard in combat class. She was supposed to be perfect, and now, she was _deaf._

And… and she didn't know if she should even be mad. It would have been easy to be mad, but all she could think was that she was _alive._

Weiss stood up from her hospital bed, not caring that everyone had told her to stay put. She needed to see. She needed to see what the great Schnee Heiress had been reduced to.

Sibyl was in the room too, across from her, but he'd been sleeping for awhile. She was hoping she was quiet enough not to wake him, but… well, how was she supposed to know anymore? Weiss let out a silent cry- or at least, it was silent to her. Was she making noise? What was going on? Why couldn't she _hear_ anything? This wasn't fair- nothing was fair! People had died, she was deaf, Sibyl had even more scars and-

A hand wrapped around her waist, and she froze. Slowly, the hand pulled her back, and Weiss allowed herself to rest against Sibyl as he reached around and hugged her gently. He had lost an ear when he was trying to get to her. She had made Sibyl, who already was without one eye, lose an ear. Glancing upwards and backwards through her own tears, she wasn't able to stop from reaching a hand and grabbing at where the bandages on the side of his head were. He allowed it, not moving as she stroked it.

' _I'm sorry,'_ she tried to say, but again, how was she supposed to know if she actually said it? _'I'm so sorry. I didn't- I never-"_ Whatever she was going to say was cut off when Sibyl just tightened his hug, resting his head atop hers. It made her feel safe.

Sibyl made her feel safe. Slowly, he began walking the both of them towards somewhere. He knew what she wanted; of course he knew. Sibyl knew her. Sibyl _loved_ her, and he wasn't like her dad. He would love her, even with all her flaws. Even with her being deaf.

Had Sibyl ever told her that he loved her? Would she ever get to actually _hear_ those words?

They were in the bathroom now, though the lights were out. Sibyl was shirtless, his eye and ear bandaged with little else covered. She was in some pants and a shirt; for the both of them, their wounds, while serious, were not the leave-bed-ridden for a month type. That meant they weren't forced to stay in some hospital gown for forever.

Sibyl flicked on the light, staring blankly at the mirror and his own scar-riddled body.

Slowly, Weiss removed her own shirt, leaving her in nothing but a bra and pants. She stared at the reflection, fighting against all that was to not have her lip quiver. Most of the small nicks she had gotten in her fight with the masked man had healed, though there were one or two deeper ones that were going to have to stay. They were hardly noticeable, and they were almost nice? But there was one scar that wasn't nice.

Naturally, her eyes went to her stomach, where a large cut ran basically all the way across, waist edge to waist edge. Yang had told her- written, at least- what had happened. She'd been bleeding out, there were no clothes to tie it with, so she'd been forced to cauterize it with a discarded knife and her pyromancy.

It was the only reason Weiss was alive.

The skin around the scar had to be the worst. It was all… discolored. Nothing about her stomach was pretty anymore. Black contrasted with her pale white skin, and only served to make the cauterizing wound stand out even _more_ because it was practically its own flab of skin and-

Sibyl slowly turned around, revealing his back. Weiss's eyes flicked towards him in the mirror, before she finally turned to actually face his back. He had a similar scar. There was no cauterization wound, but, to be fair, he had enough scars that outdid that. No, his back was just a similar burn. Discolored everywhere, nothing matching, just overall… _grotesque._

But it didn't _retract_ from Sibyl. It _was_ Sibyl, just as much as those grey eyes, the bulging muscles, the… the _calm_ he brought her. All of it combined to make Sibyl, her favorite person in the world. She ran her finger along his back, and before long, he had turned back around to face her.

He had a bunch of new scars thanks to him. They had offered to heal them, but he shrugged it off. Probably said- and she didn't know, but she could guess- that a few new ones weren't bad. She knew why he was doing it. For her. He didn't want her to feel bad, so he was keeping even _more_ scars, on top of the ones he already had.

It was heartwarming. It also made her sick with herself. Did he really think she was so weak as to _care_ if he didn't add a few new scar strokes to the grotesque artwork that was his body? All because she, the perfect Schnee, finally had something actually wrong with her? The little scar on her eye hardly _mattered._ She got compliments on it more often than not.

This? This… line on her stomach? It wasn't attractive. There was no intrigue to it. It was ugly.

Sibyl cupped the sides of cheeks, pulling her in close for a kiss. She returned it, though not as strongly. How could he kiss her? How could he kiss her when she was… she was broken? She couldn't hear. She couldn't hear anything. She'd never be able to hear him say he loved her; if… if they had kids, she'd never even be able to hear them _cry._

Weiss gave a choking sob. Sibyl held her close, allowing her to rest her head against his chest. Eventually, though, he pushed her back, crouching down and examining her wound. She flinched away. Why was he looking at it like that, why wasn't he disgusted, why did he still _want_ her-

Sibyl grabbed her hand and stroked it gingerly, which did enough to calm her down that she didn't flinch when he traced one finger along the outline of her scar. He slowly stood up, reaching for a notebook he'd kept in his back pocket just for her. It was one of the first things he'd asked for.

He spent a few seconds writing before holding out the page for her to read. He had beautiful handwriting.

 _It's a beautiful scar._

She gritted her teeth, grabbing the notebook and tossing it halfway across the bathroom. ' _No it's not,'_ she maybe-said, ' _don't lie to me! Don't lie to me to make me feel better. There is_ _ **nothing**_ _about that scar that is beautiful! I- Sibyl, God, I don't even know if anything I'm saying is right. Am I saying nothing?'_

She cried again, but after a few moments, Sibyl shoved his notebook into her face again, this time forcefully.

Begrudgingly, she read it.

 _Do you think I, of all people, care about a few scars? It is a beautiful scar, Weiss, because it is a scar of victory. Of perseverance. You are so incredibly strong, Weiss. Stronger than I. The scars I have, they come from my death. When I was too weak to survive, too weak to have the will to live._

' _You're… you're just saying that,'_ she mumbled, closing her eyes and trying to get the tears to stop.

He held the notepad for her to read again.

' _I am many things, Weiss, but a liar is not one of them. I love that scar, Weiss. I love that you hate that scar, just like I hate my scars. I love it, because it means you're still here. That you're alive and able to judge. That scar is the reminder of the worst day of your life… yet, to me, it reminds me that you brushed with death and lived. And that brings me more joy than anything in this world ever could.'_

Weiss cried, throwing herself against him in a hug. ' _What… what about the hearing? Does it not bother you?'_ It bothered Weiss. It bothered Weiss _a lot._

' _I am half blind, due to an abyssal infection of all things, and am missing an ear, Weiss. I'm hardly one to judge. Besides, I have been meaning to pick up a new language. Sign Language sounds wonderful.'_

Weiss held him close, refusing to let go. He was the only thing that was stopping her from crying even harder.

She tugged him to her bed, uncaring about how small it was. They slept together, and Weiss squirmed when he wrapped a hand around her stomach gently, careful to never prod her scar so much to hurt it. But he wasn't scared of it. Not like she was- she didn't want to think about it. No matter what he said, it was ugly. She knew he saw it as ugly, too.

It made his pretending that it was so pretty all the more sweet.


	18. Taking a Stand

_**So, I leave for basic on the 26th of this month. That means that, for a 4ish month span, I will have no access to my computer. It doesn't necessarily mean I won't be writing- pen and paper exists, after all. Still, my ability to write and continue this story will be nonexistent until my basic training is over. This story is NOT being abandoned. I am way too damn close to the end to abandon it now. I will try to upload another chapter, maybe even two, before I leave on the 26th.**_

 _ **Onto reviews: Someone asked why Sibyl didn't just heal Weiss and himself with miracles. The answer is simple: he can't. As explained in this story previous,ly "his faith in those gods were lacking, while Gwyn and Velka had always favored him." Thanks to everyone else who reviewed, gave some ideas, or complimented in general. Glad to see my pacing in turning this story from monotone to dark in tone was a gradual one, because that was the goal. I'll have a few more words at the end, but onto the chapter!**_

* * *

Glynda sighed, rubbing two fingers against her forehead to try and relieve her massive headache. It felt like she'd had this headache for damn ever since she met Sibyl. It had only _really_ gotten bad back when him and Blake had been captured, but that seemed to follow with the revelation he was an _undead_ of all things, then James arrived with his merry band of robots, and now, a breach on Vale had resulted in twenty-three casualties, including children.

Said attack had also put the sole protection of the Vytal Festival on James Ironwood of all people. Ozpin and herself were no longer in charge, simply advisers that James would, in all likelihood, refuse to listen to. Oh, not to mention: Sibyl was missing and ear, and one of her… yes, at this point, screw student-teacher relations. One of Glynda's friends was deaf.

They were asking her to set aside that friendship as a professional, because Ozpin had chosen her to evaluate if Weiss Schnee was fit to be a huntress. There wasn't a lot to evaluate, actually; it was a very cut and dry situation. Hearing was imperative to a Huntress. Without it, making calls in the field, communicating with civilians, heading the Grimm around her in the heat of a fight, it all became impossible. Without hearing, a huntress could hardly function.

But _Weiss._ The girl, she had come here to escape from the clutches of her father; she'd come here to prove she was more than just another Schnee. And now, in the midst of hers and Sibyl's blooming relationship, the soon-to-start Vytal festival that she'd been looking so much forward to, and her own learning of Sign language, Glynda was being chosen to make the choice if she could even continue attending Beacon.

Regardless of what decision was made, Glynda knew that Weiss wouldn't be allowed to enter the Vytal festival. Resisting the urge to scream, the blonde-teacher reflected on that a bit more. Weiss hadn't been able to stop talking about how _excited_ she was to showoff in the Vytal festival. She was convinced that, with the help of Sibyl's sorceries, she'd be able to shock everyone and even beat Pyrrha.

That, in front of the _whole world,_ Weiss Schnee would spit in her father's face and prove she was the best, that her choice to attend Beacon had been the right one. And now… Glynda was going to stomp on that dream.

Grabbing the glass of whiskey in front of her and downing it in one gigantic gulp, she slammed the glass back down. The liquid made her shudder, it made her throat burn, but God, a part of it just felt _good._

There was also the matter of something else, something which made her decision all the harder. It also made her _immediately_ begin making a draft to change some of Beacon's more archaic rules involving what they were to do with Huntresses and Huntsman who took injuries in the field that led to them being classified as _disabled._

Because the longer she stared at the envelope on her table, one complete with the Schnee family crest, the sicker she felt about what would happen. Nothing could be easy, could it?

Life, Glynda concluded, just wasn't fair.

* * *

Weiss didn't feel anything when she'd been called up into Ozpin and Glynda's office, discreetly. She hadn't felt anything when the two laid out everything for her, how despite how proficient she was, how talented, being deaf was something that would put her and her whole team in danger. She certainly hadn't felt anything when they explained that, due to the deafness, she was being disqualified as a Huntress.

The only reason she hadn't felt anything was because she knew it was coming. A small part of her had hoped that with Glynda being one of the ones in charge, _maybe_ they could scoot some lines. But it was unfair to expect that, and it was even more unfair to hold it against Glynda. After all, she was purely professional about it.

No matter what she told herself, Weiss was a liability. She wouldn't be able to hear anything in the field; she couldn't hear anything in her own _bedroom._ Everyone would have to work twice as hard to make sure she wasn't taken by surprise, to make sure that her lack of hearing was accounted for. Weiss had accepted that she might not be able to be a real Huntress from the moment the doctors had told her about her deafness.

She hadn't been ready for… _this._ The layout of just what was supposed to happen to her due to her _disability._ Gods, she was disabled now. She hadn't really thought about it like that, but they were right- Weiss Schnee was _disabled._ She was deaf. One of the most crucial parts of life just wasn't _there_ for her.

It made sense, what they had planned in the case for disabilities. Of course, usually in their field, it involved more missing limbs and not deafness, but still. It made _sense_ to return young Huntsman and Huntresses home to their guardian, so they would be in familiar hands and be able to deal with their injury. After all, Weiss couldn't just go into Vale and apply for a job. She was deaf. She couldn't even talk to people!

What was going to happen to Weiss Schnee was very simple and made a crude amount of sense.

She was going to be returned to the loving, _caring_ arms of her father.

* * *

Helplessness. It was a feeling he hated, yet one he had grown far, far too familiar with. So familiar with it, in fact, that he was damn tired of it. For once, he was not going to bend to the whims of it. He wasn't going to sit back and _watch_ as those close to him were hurt. He was going to solve things. He was going to fix things.

It was why he was scrunched over his desk, pieces of paper thrown and crumbled all across the room behind him. He, he had to come up with something. He was Sibyl of Lordran, a master of pyromancy and sorcery! And, if there was something that defined every sorcerer of legend, it was that they came up with a few spells of their own, be it a school of spells or a few unique ones in particular.

He had to come up with something to… _help_ Weiss's deafness. He didn't want to say fix, because nothing about Weiss needed to be _fixed._ He had to help, though. He _had to._ It was more important than attending some stupid class about history that he had no interest of. It was why he'd skipped today without hesitation, and no fool was dumb enough to say anything about it.

His initial desire had been to spend time with Weiss, but she had requested time alone. It burned his heart to give it to her, but Sibyl had listened. He could understand how she was feeling; sometimes, when everything went wrong, you simply wanted to be by yourself. He'd requested the same thing when he'd awoken from the tail-end of Blake and his own capture incident.

Still, while Weiss didn't want him helping her get through this with physical comfort at the moment, he could be here and try to figure out a solution. That solution? Soul Sorcery. He'd thought about pyromancy, but the flame could not do what sorcery could. Sorcery was _special._ It could do damn near anything- or so he was inclined to think.

Soul energy was amazing. There had to be some sort of way for it to amplify sound, to translate it directly to a person from the surrounding area. Maybe even just another way to _listen_ to the soul energies around a person, because that would practically be as good as hearing.

If sorcery could turn one transparent, repair seemingly irreversible damages, and create full illusions, there had to be a way for it to help Weiss.

Design by design, he went through, each one of varying degrees of worthlessness. One of his earliest designs had been a soul energy that surrounded the person casting almost like a mist. From there, the hope was for him to come up with some way for it to directly translate sound, either through things like a general feeling or some sort of shock. After all, Weiss could make do without conversation; the biggest thing was enabling her to fight as a Huntress.

The issue with the idea was it would take far too much energy to keep up, and it was also... annoying? He had tried to imagine constantly fighting in mist, and it sounded awful. Certainly not something Weiss might appreciate.

A more simple spell he came up with was a soul-connection, connecting two people's soul in a distant way that might allow for telepathic communication. Again, these were all just ideas- further development was needed before he could even imagine something like that working. But, even with that spell, the problem was it only solved speech, not everything else she'd need to continue being a huntress.

Everything else he'd come up with had been just as bad for what was needed.

Being blind in one eye, while unfortunate, was something he'd been able to adapt to and overcome with some troubles, thanks primarily to his countless experience. He still recalled his earliest bumbles, being blind-sided by simple beasts and in private spars. Even still it could affect him if his opponent was particularly good. Still, it was limited vision, not a lack thereof.

And similarly, hearing. If Weiss could still _kinda_ hear, she might be able to survive. Adapt. But she couldn't hear at all, and sound was everything in a fight. It stopped one from being ambushed; it was far more central to situational awareness than seeing was. Without the ability to hear, one was practically deadweight in a fight.

Weiss, an aspiring Huntress, was now without this crucial detail.

It didn't matter what he came up with. No matter how many awful concepts he came up with, thought deeper on, and dismissed, unless the soul could simply _repair_ her hearing, then this endeavor, this… this _hope_ that he might be able to help the one most precious to him, was worthless.

There was no replacement for hearing. There simply wasn't. Nothing he could do besides healing her ability to hear would ever help. And so, Sibyl was forced to face a terrible conclusion: he was helpless. Again.

" _Gaah!"_ He screamed, standing up at his desk and flipping it, uncaring as pencils and papers went flying everywhere. Why was he so worthless?! He should have stood up to Ozpin. He _knew_ something would go wrong on the girls' trip. Something always did, but he had allowed himself to relax. To believe that, since Sif and that Huntsman were there, things might work out okay.

He stayed standing for a few moments, staring at the mess he had caused in his anger. His breathing stayed deep, and his eyes snapped to gaze at Solaire's helmet nearby. Slowly, he sat back down in his chair, leaning back and sighing.

The clicking of his door opening made his eyes, previously closed, snap back open. Great. Someone was going to see this mess and think him absolutely insane. Well, better to not put it off. Glancing back over his shoulder, his angry scowl faded into a flat expression at seeing it was Weiss who had come to his dorm. She was looking around the room in confusion, slowly making her way towards him.

She stopped, leaning down to pick up a piece of paper before unfurling it into something readable.

Sibyl's turned his head back straight, not willing to look at her. He was failing her. He had to come up with something. There had to be _something._

The undead said nothing when she wrapped two arms around his neck, leaning in close and hugging him. The usually comfortable feeling left him feeling quite hollow. What good was it? What good was _he?_

Weiss unfurled herself from him, grabbing him by the shoulder and forcing him up out of his chair. She led them to his bed, and as they sat down together, he finally realized Weiss was holding something outside of his worthless concept papers.

It was a letter, one with her family crest on it. He felt his heart drop when he noticed her hands shaking as she tried to present it to him. He took it from her hands gingerly, doing his best to ignore her choking sobs. She wasn't even able to hear them, was she? Sickening.

Sibyl frowned, giving the letter a browse. It was from her father. He quite hated the man.

Said hatred only grew as he read more and more of the letter. It was… an arrogant letter. There was no concern in the letter, only the words of a grouchy, child tyrant who masqueraded as a man. The letter, it read almost as if he was… _smug_ about her injury. Because he outlined that she had _failed,_ that her deafness was disqualifying her as a Huntress, and she would be returned to Atlas soon so they could discuss her _proper_ future.

Atlas. Weiss had often spoken of her home fondly, but he'd always seen through the lies. Sibyl crumbled the paper he had previously been reading, slamming it into the bed beside him and breathing deep through his nose so he wouldn't accidently light it on fire.

Slowly, he turned to face Weiss, grabbing one hand and wiping a few tears away. He grabbed the paper she'd been holding, pushing it against his thigh and using a pen to write a quick message.

' _You're not going anywhere. I will handle this.'_ And he had a plan to handle this, all beginning with a certain Atlas General who was relying on him to win a war that threatened the world. He'd been willing to do it on goodwill alone, but now… now he had a price.

As he stood from his bed, going to leave this room and deal with things, Weiss snatched his hand. "S-Sibyl, it's useless. I'm not a Huntress anymore, and… my father, he's a tyrant. He has connections everywhere- _nothing we do will matter!"_ Sibyl closed the distance between them in an instant, pulling her in for a passionate kiss.

He didn't know how long they kissed, just that he helped it got the point across that he wasn't going to let _anything_ happen to her.

Eventually, after their lips separated and he was done staring into her beautiful eyes, he took to writing on the paper again. God, he wished she could _hear_ the conviction in his words. But no, she would have to read them. _'Please, Weiss. Trust me. I will not allow you to be taken against your will. I promise.'_ She didn't say anything after that, simply curling into a ball on his bed. He hesitated, wanting more than anything else to hug her, to comfort her, but he needed to find General Ironwood _now._

Not looking back for fear it'd break him, he walked across his room with a confident stride he didn't feel before finding himself standing in the familiar hallway. He shut the door behind him and gave a long sigh, resisting the urge to go back in there with Weiss. Instead, he began making his way to Ozpin's office, one where General Ironwood now resided.

* * *

General Ironwood was under no illusions about _why_ Sibyl had suddenly busted into Ozpin's office, interrupting a meeting between himself, Glynda, and Ozpin. He wasn't intimidated by the action, either. In fact, ever since he heard about the situation with one Weiss Schnee, he'd been expecting this to happen. It was slightly sooner than he had expected it to happen, but maybe that was because he'd underestimated how much Sibyl cared.

When Glynda took a step back and Ozpin sucked in a breath, James Ironwood took a step sideways and presented himself fully to the young man. General James Ironwood was not a man who got intimidated… though, he would admit, staring into Sibyl's grey eyes was intimidating.

"Weiss has received a letter explaining how she is to return home, stating her… _deficiency_ in disqualifying her as a Huntress. Is this true? Were you three aware of this?" Ironwood nodded without hesitation at his prodding question. There was no point in beating around the bush. Weiss Schnee was now deaf. She was unfit to be a Huntress.

"Regardless of your feelings towards the girl, she's unfit to continue as a Huntress," James explained carefully and without emotion, "If we were to put her out in the field, she'd only be endangering herself and others." He wasn't _happy_ about Weiss's situation, but it was a reality. Their field didn't lend itself very well to happy endings.

"I don't care what you think, General." Sibyl explained, marching up to him and clenching his fists, "In fact, I don't care what the official laws state, if Weiss _is_ by all means unfit to be a Huntress. She is going to stay here," the undead stated as if _he_ was the headmaster of the school. That was the confidence in his tone. The power.

Sharing a look with the other two adults in the room, and almost wishing Dusk was here to reprimand him before he began prodding the young man in front of him, Ironwood held his tongue when Glynda sighed and took a step forward.

"I don't like it anymore than you do, Sibyl. But, as of now, Jacques Schnee is her legal guardian, and while she is over eighteen and technically an adult, Beacon has… _rules_ and infrastructure in place for Huntsmen and Huntresses injuries in the field." It was certainly one way to describe them. Say what you will about Atlas, James had at least updated their standards.

"Rules that involve sending a girl back to the man she hates are hardly rules worth following, _Glynda."_ Sibyl stated with a bit of ice at the tail-end of his tone. It seemed that his close relationship with Glynda wasn't even enough to shield her.

"It is an unfortunate situation," Ozpin piped in finally, "but if she were to be returned to her father, it would not be permanent. Only temporary until she had the means and ability to-"

"Shut up," Sibyl spat, and the room went deafeningly quiet. No one told Ozpin to _shut up._ The undead began pacing back and forth, furling his fingers and allowing a flame to dance in his palm. "I've put up with a lot since my arrival. I've done a lot to help- I've lost an ear and nearly died protecting a world that isn't even my own!"

His breath went ragged for a moment as he glared at all of them, his gaze only slightly softening at Glynda's gaze. "You three are going to do something to fix Weiss's hearing and her status as a Huntress. General, I've seen the technology you're capable of- I refuse to believe you can't resolve her hearing issues."

Ironwood raised an eyebrow. "Atlas doesn't have that sort of tech, unfortunately. We've never had a need to develop it, compared to-"

"Well," Sibyl interrupted, "now you have a need to develop it."

This was an interesting opportunity. Fixing Weiss Schnee's hearing issues wasn't a large issue, and in fact, would hardly take any of his attention at all. But Sibyl was technologically illiterate. He came from the medieval ages, so it made sense, but still. For all his wisdom, for all his strength, for all his raw intellect that showed in his sorceries, he didn't understand how things worked.

And that meant James could lie.

Standing up straighter and to his full height, James sent a cool glare at the boy in front of him. "You would have me reroute whole science divisions for one girl? Do you have any idea the kind of work they do? It's the kind that helps the masses. Millions. _Everyone."_

"I do not _care,_ General. I am done caring." James almost smiled, but instead he kept his expression flat.

"You have no leverage here," Ironwood tried to interject, and Sibyl laughed.

"No leverage? General, I have _all_ the leverage. If I recall correctly, you asked me to document all of my accumulated magic knowledge. Not just the spells, but the theories, how the soul _works."_ Sibyl paused, taking a step closer to him. "You even asked I break sacred vows and give you my miracles. I even agreed to do _all_ of this, out of the goodness of my heart… but not anymore. The condition for my accumulated magic knowledge is simple: find a cure for Weiss's hearing, be it based in technology or something else.

Sibyl allowed the words to sink it before continuing. "Until then, you will reinstate Weiss as a Huntress still being evaluated."

"Sibyl," Glynda began to explain, voice pleading, "if it was someone unknown, we might be able to, but this is a _Schnee._ The legal troubles if-"

"If you cannot do the _only_ thing I've asked of any of you, in return for all that I have done, than perhaps I have wasted more time here than I thought!" Sibyl declared, turning his attention to Ozpin with furrowed brows,. "I haven't come in here like a child demanding evidence of Lordran. I've been more than understanding that these things take time, and now, when I _finally_ ask for something back in this relationship, you try and dismiss me!?"

Ironwood took a deep breath. "Twenty-three people died during that breach, Sibyl. Including children," he added, gesturing backwards towards the city of vale behind them through the window. "You're asking me to divert millions in research cost, in time we could spend developing new weapons against the Grimm so what happened just last week doesn't happen again. All of this to help one girl who's not even dying- she'll be able to live a near-normal life!"

Sibyl was silent for a few moments before he almost whispered. "But she will not be a Huntress."

"Countless children want to be huntresses and fail to do so, Sibyl. Should we develop the means for them to do so, too?" Nobody said anything, so James decided to push a bit further. He wanted to see what made the man who was going to save the world _tick._ "You're trying to leverage me to help one girl over the possibility of helping millions. You're from a time a lot different than ours, so I don't expect you to understand just what my scientists are constantly doing. It is _critical."_

"It means more than a dozen students at this school," James explained, "Are you willing to push all of that aside for one girl? Are you that _mad?"_

Everyone waited for a response, and Sibyl's didn't disappoint.

"Yes. And until I see tangible evidence that you _are_ working towards a solution for Weiss's deafness… I won't be giving you my countless pages of documentation. I am willing to swing by your research facility, however, if you reinstate Weiss as still being evaluated. Until that happens, I won't be helping you with _anything._ " So, he stood firm, hmm. Twisting him hadn't been so easy this time as the last.

"Glynda," Ozpin interjected from behind, "I do believe we will have to prolong our evaluation of Weiss Schnee's ability to continue as a Huntress." Glynda hummed softly, nodding thereafter.

"You're being selfish, you realize," James called out as Sibyl turned his back to them, returning to the elevator that had brought him here. Everyone could be selfish, but he'd been under the impression Sibyl was above it.

"I don't care to listen to someone who's funded by Jacques Schnee. Good bye."

It took a few moments after the elevator door to close before someone spoke, breaking the silence that had overtaken them. "I'm glad he did that," Glynda admitted, blowing a bit of hair out of her face. She was looking at him with cautious eyes. Maybe he was a better actor than he thought?

"So am I," he admitted to the surprised looks of those around him. He rose an eyebrow. "What? You do realize Winter Schnee is one of my closest commanders, and she cares for Weiss _very_ much." He paused, tilting his head. "In fact, I suspect she would have forced me to help Weiss regardless."

Glynda sagged in relief, her shoulders losing a bit of the stress in them. "I'm glad we're all on the same page as far as helping Weiss goes. I've been learning Soul Sorcery next to Weiss since just a bit after Sibyl's arrival, and… well, I care for her. More than most of the students here, at least. I'm glad she won't be made to go back to a father she hates more than the Grimm."

She turned back towards Ozpin. "How exactly are we going to defend keeping Weiss here? Jacques is going to be _furious."_

Ozpin waved off her worries, turning around in his chair to face the far window. "I believe that is a concern for James to deal with." Despite himself, he couldn't help but chuckle. Jacques was a worm he didn't like working with, but the man had money and a lot of funding.

Sighing, James ran a hand through his hair as he stared at the elevator Sibyl had left from. He couldn't help but smile softly, though it flickered briefly when he wondered if maybe he had pushed the boy a bit too far. Ironwood was helping for a fruitful relationship, after all. A long one, too. There was so much he could do for all of them, and he didn't even realize it.

And, honestly, fixing Weiss's hearing shouldn't be a _huge_ issue. It wouldn't be done soon, but with two of his research teams focusing on it, they should get it figured out within four to six months. And he thought about diverting more, but at a certain point, it became too many people for a somewhat simple issue. The primary reason he _still_ thought of more than two people was due to what Sibyl was able to offer them was impossibly important. What he could contribute to the world was worth more money than Jacques Schnee had in his whole bank account.

The best thing to come out of all of this was the discovery that Sibyl _was_ very close with Weiss. She might be something to keep him anchored here, to make him forget all about his so-called home. If that was the case, then James would have won without ever doing anything.

Besides, this would put Winter in a good mood, especially when he explained what Sibyl had done. His second-in-command had been dreading having to take Weiss home. Winter was supposed to arrive today. Hopefully this put everyone in a better mood. In fact, he was going to give her a call and update her as soon as this meeting ended. Speaking of…

"Right, well… back to the subject at hand." The mood plummeted into a much more serious tone. After all, deciding who might be their new Maiden was serious business. Doubly so, in fact, if it might be the Princess he had found himself falling for as of late.

* * *

Yang was about five seconds away from tearing Beacon apart, because she had come back from classes to find Weiss in Sibyl's room, curled up in a ball on his bed, _sobbing her heart out._ And why? Why was she like this? Because they had 'evaluated' her as a Huntress and decided she was unfit. Weiss, unfit as a Huntress?

If Weiss was unfit, then what were Cardin and his little three stooges?! Weiss could probably beat them deaf _and_ blind-folded! Still, Yang wasn't the only one furious. Apparently, Weiss had explained through her tears, Sibyl had left like a man on a mission to do… _something._ Something to keep Weiss here. It was the only reason she wasn't going up to Ozpin and demanding a meeting right away.

Ruby was somehow _even_ worse than the both of them. She was crying harder than Weiss! Blake was really the only one keeping it together, and that was a sort of tentative ' _keeping it together'_ because she seemed equally pissed. Blake just… expressed things in a different way.

What they had all been doing to try and pass the time, though, was go through the papers on the ground that Sibyl seemed to have thrown everywhere. Also: his desk was flipped upside down, which… made a lot of sense. Fireball was hard to get frustrated, but he _could_ get frustrated. And, much like a fireball, when he got frustrated, he sorta'… _exploded._ Figuratively, at least.

And, apparently, when he was under stress, he could come up with some crazy ass ideas. Going inside someone's soul? Connecting two souls telepathically? It all went over her head, especially when he started talking about _flow_ and _natural soul energy,_ but it was all interesting. Weiss seemed to make some sense of it, though, and her crying had gotten less sad and more joyful when she saw just how hard Sibyl was working to try and help her.

It was another thing. Whenever Sibyl described Weiss in his writings, he always said _help._ Never _fix._ A small thing, but when Ruby had pointed it out and explained it to Weiss, she'd finally smiled. It was definitely progress.

This whole ordeal, though, sucked. All her fairy-tails? All the excitement she imagined life as a Huntress could entail? Going far-distant places, saving people, stopping evil-doers and Grimm? Yang had _enough_ of it. Because while she had sorta done all of those things, there were a lot of things she hadn't imagined.

The stories didn't mention finding one of your closest friends in a train with her stomach sliced open, her bleeding out of the back of her skull because someone had slammed her into the ground and had planned on cutting off her fingers and shoving them into empty eye sockets _._

The stories didn't mention accidentally stepping on a woman's _corpse_ in the middle of a fight against Grimm because if you so much as hesitated for even a second you'd be joining them, dead on the ground with frozen eyes that refused to close and a look of stricken horror on your face as you watched your best friend die or your parents or Ruby and _oh god there had been children-_

"Y-Yang!" Blake hissed, shaking her shoulder. Yang acted involuntarily; she threw out a fist, one which slammed into her partner's stomach. When her mind finally stopped panicking enough to realize what she did, Yang couldn't even breathe. Everyone was silent in the room for a few moments, and nobody said anything when Blake embraced Yang in a hug.

"It's okay, Yang," Blake insisted, rubbing her back as she tried to get her breathing under control. She wasn't going to cry. What did she have to cry about? She hadn't been cut open. She wasn't _deaf._ It wasn't her family and friends out there dead in the streets. What did she have to cry about?

Pushing Blake off her and running a hand through her hair, Yang took a deep breath. Right. Everything was fine- Ruby was still alive. Blake was alive. Sibyl was alive. Weiss, while deaf, was alive. Everything was fine. Except it wasn't, and it was never going to be fine. That was what life as a Huntress was all about.

"Sorry. I, uh… got lost there for a second." Ruby nodded knowingly at her words, and somehow, that made Yang even more sick.

"Being a Huntress isn't exactly what we'd all thought it would be, huh?" Ruby admitted, voice not as chirp as it should be. She was _so young._ What if Ruby died out there? Yang had dismissed the thought, because, hey, they were the good guys. They were so _skilled._ Then she'd found Weiss with her stomach cut open.

"It's… different," Blake admitted, rubbing at her arms. A sniffle of tears caught all their attention, and they froze when they realized it was coming from Weiss. Yang's face transformed from one of sadness to shock.

"Oh, shit. Weiss- she can't hear us, and we're just talking around her-"

Ruby began to approach Weiss, grabbing some paper to try and apologize, but she, somehow, spoke through her own cries. "No! Get out! Just, just! Get. Out."

They all listened, leaving before waiting outside the door awkwardly. They… they weren't just going to leave Weiss alone, but Yang understood why she was mad. "We really screwed that one up, huh?" She muttered, rubbing at the back of her hand. None of them wanted to admit it, but Weiss was deaf, and that changed things. Everything was different.

Yang wasn't exactly sure how long they all stood outside of Sibyl's dorm, just… _waiting._ But, eventually, Sibyl had arrived, his expression, if Yang had to describe it, _tired._ He looked drained, and upon seeing them, he rose an eyebrow.

"We… we sorta screwed up with Weiss. Started having a normal- I mean, a conversation, and she couldn't hear anything," Yang explained softly, and Sibyl nodded knowingly.

"You will adapt. Please, come in; I'll deal with Weiss's rage if there is any." He opened the door, entering… well, it was hard to describe. Yang noticed that he entered not with noise, but with a lot of vibrations; he threw the door open, shaking a few things on the walls. He stomped into the room, shaking the floor to the best of his ability. And, before any of them had said anything, Weiss had already turned around and seen him enter.

No one had to grab her on the shoulder, get her attention. Weiss was _aware_ of what was around her.

If it was at all possible, Yang would have turned invisible. _That_ was how someone who actually cared dealt with things. Sibyl… he was just better than them at this, wasn't he? He'd thought about everything. He was trying to make Weiss feel as normal as possible, not remind her about her issues. God, they were all idiots. Ruby and Blake looked rather downtrodden too, so at least it wasn't just Sibyl who realize this.

"So, Sibyl, what's the-" He held up a hand, shushing Ruby before she could say anything more. He moved over to his flipped over desk, grabbing a notebook off the ground and a paper. Everyone just sat there in silence as he wrote rapidly. It was awkward, but it was better than Sibyl treating Weiss like an afterthought.

How would it have felt, she wondered, if Sibyl had explained everything to them verbally, _then_ done what he was now doing? It would have been insulting. It would have _hurt._

As he finished writing, he moved next to Weiss on his bed, taking a seat next to her and holding the page in front of the both of them. As Weiss read, so did he, but aloud.

"Weiss, you will _not_ be returning home. I did not make any of you aware, but I met with Ironwood during the day you left on your trip. It is why I was unable to see you all off. He asked that I share intricate knowledge on pyromancy, sorcery, and what miracles I do know, so he might upgrade the world's defense. I agreed at no cost, after some… _pushing._

He paused, clearing his throat before continuing. "Right. Well, I've spoken with him. He will be setting his-" whatever Sibyl was going to say was stopped, because Weiss tackled him onto his bed and began what looked like the start of a make-out session. Sibyl looked ready to enjoy it for what it was worth, but slowly pushed Weiss off with a massive smile, gesturing towards the rest of them in the room.

Weiss blushed, turning to look at the ground, but not before scooting closer to Sibyl and holding his hand closely. "As I was saying," Sibyl said with a slight laugh, leaning his head against Weiss's, "I strong-armed Ironwood. He will not get _any_ of my information until I have tangible evidence that his research teams are developing some sort of hearing device to help Weiss. Additionally, opposed to sending her home, they have opened up Weiss's status as a Huntress as still under _evaluating._ It will remain that way until your hearing troubles are solved, Weiss."

Yang cheered, bumping a fist. "You're freakin' amazing, Fireball," she declared, and at that, Sibyl's smile faded slightly. He grabbed his pencil and notepad, beginning to write but hesitating. He shook his head, powering through it.

"It… it does mean Weiss will not be able to participate in the Vytal festival. I'm sorry. I… I wish I could-" Weiss just pulled the bumbling oaf closer, hugging against the side of his body without a worry in the world.

"It's fine," Weiss declared, though her voice suggested it was less than fine. She still seemed mostly happy though. "You did more than enough." She gave him a small peck on his cheek, and the undead blushed and rubbed at the back of his head.

He wrote something down quickly, and Weiss slapped the back of his head playfully thereafter. It was… awkward, to see them interact but not really be apart of it. It wasn't _bad;_ it was cute, if anything. Ruby rushed across the room, stealing the notebook out of his hand and pencil, writing it in her own messy style that clashed so heavily with Sibyl's.

"This is awesome! Weiss gets to stay as a Huntress, and Sibyl is super cool- who else would strong arm General Ironwood?! Honestly, who cares about the Vytal festival? We'll just win the next one!" Ruby paused for a second, frowning before writing a bit more and handing it to Weiss.

"And… compared to what we just did, competing in it just feels… _empty."_ Yang nodded at that, as did Sibyl and Weiss. Really, they wanted to parade them all out there like dancing monkeys when they could be doing actual good. The Grimm didn't stop- maybe everyone else didn't realize that, but they sure did.

Sibyl snatched his notebook back, writing a quick sprawling note and reading it aloud for all of them as Weiss tried to stay up to date. "This calls for a celebration!"

A knocking on the door interrupted them, and Blake was the first one to answer.

The woman standing there was… imposing, prissy, and proper, with a military uniform that demanded respect and long, flowing white hair which complimented her beauty. She looked like Weiss all grown up. Wait…

"W-Winter?" Weiss asked with hesitation from her position on the bed. Winter smiled softly, if only for a moment, before it flattened into a much more serious expression.

"Please," Winter began, giving a look around the room as she entered, "I would like some time alone with my sister."

* * *

Sibyl had been a pain to escape from, but eventually, Weiss had managed to do so. He had wanted more than anything to stay at her side- and Weiss had half a mind to let him, after what he'd done. He had fixed _everything._ He had placed himself against General Ironwood, against _Atlas,_ for her. He had spat in her father's face without a care, and she nearly giggled at the thought.

She would, eventually, be able to be a Huntress again. Sure, she wasn't going to be able to participate in the Vytal festival, but who _cared?_ She felt so vain; she had been so concerned with showing off, with _proving herself_ before all of this. Beating Pyrrha had been one of her biggest priorities. Now, she was just… _happy._ And now she was in an open courtyard with her sister, who looked confused with how to proceed.

It hurt, but she was in too good of a mood to let it drag her down. Sibyl had all but forced his notebook into her hands when she had finally assured him that it was fine, that Winter wasn't going to try and take her away- which, initially, she had thought was what was going to happen as well.

Weiss bit her lips before she spoke, hoping that everything came out right. No one had corrected her yet, and she was inclined to think someone would have rather than let her look like a fool. Sibyl, at the least, would have said something.

"How are you?" Speaking without hearing yourself speak was so… _odd._ She could feel her jaws move, could feel the back of her throat, but she could never be sure if she was _actually_ speaking. Winter hesitated on how to respond, so Weiss held up the notebook and pencil with a sheepish smile that did a lot to mask how she was really feeling.

Winter took it, writing for a few moments before sliding it back to her. _'I am… well. Better now that I see you're in good hands.'_ Weiss rose an eyebrow at that, one which Winter raised right back.

"What do you mean?" She maybe-asked. Maybe she should just start writing everything out, too? It would make it easier to keep track of.

Weiss waited patiently as Winter began to write once more. _'I received a call from General Ironwood that one Sibyl of Lordran barged into Ozpin's office, interrupting a meeting between himself, Ozpin, and Glynda Goodwitch, with one express purpose: my sister.'_

"I apologize for his behavior," Weiss began, "Sibyl can get… worked up. He's really quite-"

Winter waved off her words, writing at a rapid pace.

' _Please, Weiss. He told General Ironwood, and I quote: "I don't care what you think." He went on to say that he didn't care what official laws stated, that regardless of if you were technically unfit to be a Huntress, you would be staying here. He also told Ozpin to, and once again, quote: "shut up"'_

Weiss felt her face burn red, both in embarrassment and something else. Sibyl really _had_ undersold exactly what went on up there, didn't he? "He was just… angry. I promise, he's-"

The younger Schnee sister went silent as Winter started laughing, which was made obvious by her facial features. Weiss could _almost_ hear the laugh, but realized it was just memories. Winter began writing again, and Weiss was ashamed to admit she fidgeted in her seat.

' _Weiss, I'm not angry with him. He was ready to force General Ironwood to reroute multiple research teams all for one girl. My sister. How could I be mad about that?'_ Weiss didn't say anything at those words, and she nearly flinched back when Winter laid a hand over hers before pulling the notebook back.

Conversing like this… it was such a pain. But it was sweet that everyone still wanted to talk to her.

' _I don't know what I expected out of your first boyfriend, but he most certainly wasn't it. He's built like a man, too. Maybe the three of us should have some family bonding, hmm?'_ Weiss squealed, covering her face with both hands and trying to ignore that her sister had just suggested a _threesome with her boyfriend!_

Winter laughed, though Weiss, again, couldn't hear it. The mood at the table faded before Weiss picked up the courage to speak again. "Will they be able to help me?" She wondered, and Winter nodded before writing.

' _I expect there'll be a solution to your issue within four-to-six months. This sort of technology is well within Atlas's capabilities, it's just not something we've seen as needed in the past. I was planning on pressuring Ironwood to assist you regardless of Sibyl's bold actions. Still, his demands have sped up the process. It likely would have taken a year or two if I was the only one pressuring him to assist you. Instead of just one or two scientists working on a solution… you'll have a whole team.'_

It was an absolutely _massive_ relief, and Weiss visibly sagged. Six months… Weiss could survive without hearing for six months. She needed to stop looking at this in a negative way: this was just an extended opportunity for her to learn another language. And sign language could help team RWBY in the future as well, regardless of when she got her hearing back.

' _Now, before we get into your combat abilities, or discuss your semblance… tell me a little about Sibyl. How did you two meet?'_

Weiss sighed softly, as she remembered going through the walkways of Beacon only to find her path blocked by a massive man, one who had a, somehow, even larger greataxe resting against his shoulder, and one who was staring above at the sky like a complete buffoon.

 _Her_ buffoon.

* * *

"It's a nasty scar," Cinder commented as he glared at his own reflection in the mirror, "but it's almost fitting." Hmph. Chester appreciated the lies and comforting words, but the fact of the matter is he was rough looking. She stepped closer to him, wrapping two arms around his waist and slowly moving back to their bed. Chester allowed her to pull him, not able to get _too_ mad.

"I'm going to kill that girl," he commented idly, imaging all the ways he could do it. Oh, he would make good on his previous promises. This time, he wouldn't turn his back to his opponent like a complete imbecile. Really, it was sad he'd been bested in such a pathetic way.

Cinder laughed softly as the two sat down. "I'm sure you will. But first, we need to get rid of Sibyl." Yes, it was a central part of their plans. "Is there a reason he hasn't come to talk to you yet? I figured you'd be higher on his suspicion list."

Rolling his eyes, the deranged killer fell back on the bed fully. "It's that mutt, Sif. He trusts the dog's nose more than he should. Lining my clothes with dust had been a wonderful idea, by the way. The wolf never expected anything."

Cinder hummed, reaching over and running a finger across his bare chest. "The day before," she mumbled. "That's when you want to send him away?"

"But of course," he explained patiently and with a bit of glee, "whether it's me or Emerald that conjure up some evidence is irrelevant. He's going to hear _something_ that threatens him, something that makes him flee, but I don't want him to go too far. I want him to _watch,_ to hope against hope that he might get back in time to save all he holds dear. I want to watch him _fail."_

"…I'm trusting you when you say you'll be able to sneak into Ozpin's office," Cinder hissed, leaning in close to his ear. "Because if you fail, and they realize what we're trying to do… you better hope they kill you before I find you."

He waved off her worries and ignored the tingle in his pants at the threat. "Relax, I'll be fine. Their little _detection_ shield can't exactly spot someone without an aura now can it?"

"Besides, if I find nothing incriminating, we always have Emerald to conjure up an illusion." Chester paused, tapping his chin foe a few moments. "I think a better question is: why are we still working with that little weasel Roman? He wants to betray us, you realize."

"Want and _will_ are very different," Cinder explained as she examined her nails, "Roman is a coward, and he knows better than anyone that betraying us means death. I have no doubt if there was some way for him to get away with all of it, he'd stab us in the back… but there isn't a way, and he knows it."

"Well, if he tries anything, I want to be the one who kills him. He insulted my appearance, you realize? It was quite hurtful." Cinder rolled on top of him, pinning him between her legs.

"Oh, my dear Chester, such a sensitive soul…"

Well, that was one way to put it.

* * *

 _ **Next chapter will get into the Vytal festival, Ironwood's research facility(aboard one of his cruisers) and Qrow will finally make another appearance. I just wanted to give a brief thank you for everyone who's been following this story, because we're getting nearer and nearer to the end. A part of me is tempted to pull some all nights and try and finish this story before I leave for basic, frankly, but we'll see.**_

 _ **I'm just happy. I've made a lot of mistakes in writing up to this point- my paragraph spacing early on was awful, and I've learned a lot in terms of how to make my writing more aesthetically pleasing. It's gradual, but I'm much happier with the technical aspects of my writing at this point in the story than earlier. The point of this story was both to get my ideas on paper and just improve myself, and I think I've done a fairly solid job at both. Anyways, again, just wanted to thank y'all for following this story. I really do appreciate it.**_

 _ **Also: I wish I was good at drawing so I could make a cover photo, but I simply am not. Feelsbadman.**_


	19. Pieces

_**So, uh... long time no see? Been a hot minute, but long story short: joined the Coast Guard, got injured in boot camp, passed bootcamp with a month delay, been at my new unit for 4 months getting qualified, and now my life is normalizing once more. Mixed in with all that was a general loss of inspiration in writing, which I've attempted to beat out with a bludgeoning hammer as seen by this chapter. It's... frustrating, because I feel like its just lacking a certain something.**_

 _ **But I may be overthinking everything. Who knows. Anyways, here's to all of you who have stayed following this. There's only a few more chapters left, and with that, things are going to get more fast-paced in things happening. Not as much fluff as usual, even if I only try to use it sparingly, anyways. This is the meat and bones, people. Shit happens. Thank you everyone for continuing to follow throughout this drought. 'Preciate ya.**_

* * *

The Vytal festival, which had been on their calendars practically since arrival at the school, had finally begun. Most were in great moods, but at the back of everyone's mind was the tragedy of the breach and the lives that had been lost. It was certainly on the front of team RWBY's mind, given that it directly resulted in their inability to participate in the festival.

It was at the forefront of _his_ mind, and he grit his teeth in anger as he imagined just who had hurt Weiss so dearly, and how he would pay them back tenfold. And he _would._ Someway, he would find them, and he would hurt them. Both because they deserved it, and because he _wanted to._

Crushed bones, skin melted, soul shattered… every variance of pain would be felt; he swore it so.

Still, there were other things to focus on. Despite the somber mood of his more immediate friends, they had come to watch regardless. And the facility they were watching these fights in? It was incredible! It was a floating colosseum _._ Yes, it floated high in the sky amidst the clouds. While he didn't see much practicality in it, he would admit it was _cool._

Sibyl plus team RWBY, in addition to Sif, all had been present for team JNPR's match. And what a match it had been! The most impressive thing to him, again, had been how the colosseum changed. The fighting environment varied based on random chance. He'd already seen it change from a desert to more.

Team JNPR, headed by Jaune and carried by Pyrrha, had made short work of their opponents. It was of little to no surprise; Jaune, since being tutored by Pyrrha and occasionally himself, was not a worthless sack of flesh who swung his sword in a manner akin to a hollow. He had _some_ skills now, enough to not be a deadweight, at least.

Ren and Nora were impressive, the latter especially so given her strength. She had hammered the other team, literally, out of the arena. All in all, the bout had been interesting but never in doubt. Team RWBY had cheered, as was polite to do, but their hearts weren't in it. Sibyl hardly blamed them. _They_ wanted to be down there. They deserved it, too.

Sibyl sighed as team RWBY approached team JNPR in the "waiting" area for participants between rounds. Sif trotted along as Ruby's side, the wolf's sword being sheathed. He was happy to note that he wasn't getting too many stares anymore- Weiss had pointed out to him earlier that, when his hood had been down, people couldn't help but stare at his wrapped-up head and ear. Truly, hoods were a blessing. The winners were in good spirits, as was to be expected. All hugs and smiles, which grew slightly more strained when they noticed team RWBY's arrival.

Yang, never one to shy around issues, cleared her throat and started speaking. "Alright, let's get this out of the way," she began, marching up to Pyrrha and the rest of them. "Yes, we're mad we can't participate. No, you don't have to apologize or feel awkward."

She smirked, crossing her arms, "Just be glad that your only _real_ competition for this stupid tournament is disqualified, because next year, _you're going down."_ Pyrrha gave a kind smile while Nora's eyes lit up, a grin stretching across her face.

"Jaune," Ruby began, the attention of the group shifting to the younger of the two leaders, "you were amazing!" It was high praise for a mediocre and or average performance, but the group was able to read between the lines: Jaune had done amazing for _him._

"Heh," Jaune began, chuckling uncomfortably, "It was everyone else. I just sort of… tagged along."

As those around began to give assurances that Jaune most certainly was _not_ a tag along, Sibyl finally noticed that Weiss had frozen beside him. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Sibyl decided to not make things worse for Weiss. Instead, he gave a brief nod at Blake before grabbing Weiss by the arm, gesturing with his head behind them and towards two others he had located in the room: Sun and Neptune, along with the rest of their team.

Hopefully they might make for a more relaxed company. Making his way across the room, once he was close enough, his voice boomed out in greeting, "Sun, Neptune!" He was unable to keep the grin off his face when the both of them spotted him, Sun's face in particular lighting up at the sight of himself and Weiss.

"Sibyl, Weiss!" Sun exchanged back, smiling wide before turning to Weiss and pausing. He raised his hand towards his forehead, the thumb resting at the center of his palm before he gestured outwards and extended the thumb up.

Blinking, it took a few moments for Sibyl to register what it was. It wasn't a homemade gesture- and many people had done those with Weiss, as certain basic meanings were easy to convey through gestures. Rather, what Sun had done was the formal way to say 'hello' in sign language. Himself and Weiss, along with the rest of their team, had begun to study sign language. It was difficult to learn, and frankly, there was only so much one _could_ learn in a short period.

Still, they had gotten several basic phrases and greetings down, and it seemed Sun, too, had done what he could to learn in a short time period.

Weiss seemed to notice at around the same time as him what Sun's gesture had meant, because the creases on her forehead ceased, and her shoulders sagged slightly, no longer so tense. She returned the gesture hesitantly, adding a few of her own thereafter; hands on her chest before extending them outward, palms facing up, before pointing at Sun himself.

Sun gave Weiss a long, blank look before turning to Sibyl for help. Chuckling, he decided to oblige.

"She asked how you are, Sun."

"Oh!" Their friend exclaimed, laughing lightly. He gave Weiss a thumbs up and a grin, which helped alleviate any worries Weiss might have had that _she_ was wrong in her gestures. "Sorry. I only learned the other day about Weiss's uh, hearing issues," he explained, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, "wish I knew more, but hey, I figured some is more than none?"

Sibyl nodded in appreciation, wracking his head for a few hand signs that would properly convey "he's sorry" to Weiss. In the end, Sibyl managed to remember them, and Weiss waved the words, or gestures, off.

"Thank you, Sun," Weiss spoke, knowing that neither himself nor her yet knew how to convey anything more complex, "It's very sweet."

He shrugged, thinking nothing of the kind gesture. In fact, judging by how uncomfortable he looked, he probably thought he wasn't doing enough. A testament to his character, if nothing else.

"Anyways," Sun continued on, finally gesturing back to his teammates- including Neptune- who had watched what was going on with patience and confusion, "these are my other teammates! Scarlet and Sage," he introduced, Scarlet being a boy with red hair, while Sage was an individual of darker complexion with interesting tattoos around his neck.

Sibyl, noticing Weiss getting lost, moved back next to her and pulled out his ever-important notebook, writing out their names before pointing at the name each one held.

A few words were exchanged, but while it was obvious Sun and Neptune both knew how to act around Weiss, the other two were off-put… so Sibyl decided to pull the plug on their interactions before Weiss felt any more out of place. Walking forward and grabbing Sun by the forearm and up to his elbow, he pulled his friend in close and gave him a strong pat on the back before separating.

"I'd wish you luck, but we both know you don't need it." The two shared a grin as their arms dropped.

"You got that right. This is going to be a breeze," he claimed, giving a brief stretch.

"I'm sure it will be, given that the only team you need worry about is JNPR. Do try to claim victory while you can; next year, team RWBY will be involved, after all." Sun gave a laugh, though it faded after a few moments.

"…Try to take better care of yourself, big guy. Me and Neptune arrived late the other day to the breach, but we saw you and Weiss." Sun paused, letting the words settle. "I was worried. You've been through enough already with all that stuff in the past," he added, gesturing mindless with his hands as he tried to find the words to explain. Of course, Sibyl knew what he was trying to convey.

Not a stranger to making promises he couldn't keep, Sibyl nodded gravely. "I'll try."

After a long stare down and a nod, Sun's face returned to its natural, grinning form. He gave a goodbye wave at Weiss; Neptune gave one as well, along with Scarlet and Sage. They seemed nice enough, all things considered.

"What were you two talking about?" Weiss asked as they walked along, and he debated whether or not to lie. In the end, he settled on telling the truth. He reached for his back pocket, receiving his notebook, and wrote out in quick, sprawling letters:

' _He and Neptune came across us at the breach. He expressed his concern and asked that I take better care of myself.'_

Weiss nodded, resting her face on his shoulder. "You should take better care of yourself," she agreed. They were within staring distance of team RWBY, but he noticed Weiss's feet had stopped churning. Giving her a sidelong glance, she averted her gaze. "Could we just… walk somewhere? Somewhere other than here?"

Nodding in agreement, he whistled briefly to get Sif's attention; it also caught Blake's. He gestured vaguely with his head outside and seemed to get a confirmation nod from both the wolf and huntress.

Perhaps some time alone would be just what they needed.

* * *

"Winter?" Weiss wondered aloud, her voice as loud as a mouse but far more pleasant to the ear. Sibyl blinked at the familiar name; it was her sister, of course. A sister he had made a rather poor first impression on at that, given he'd been under the assumption that she was going to rather forcefully return Weiss home.

A rational assumption in his mind at the time, but Weiss usually spoke of Winter favorably. He was prone to moments of buffoonery, as Weiss preferred to call them. A bit too quick to thrust the blade; it was one thing that coming here had yet to change. He was confident in his thoughts, perhaps too confident.

Giving Weiss a long look, he followed her line of sight until it was gazing at one of those flying dropships far above, this one a bit more exotic than the ones he'd seen transporting civilians at an earlier point. They were on the ground at Beacon as of then; Weiss had led the way, and when they got to one of the ferry ships taking people to and from the arena, he remained silent and simply followed her aboard.

Truthfully, getting away from the Vytal Festival was a relief. The crowd… it was too large, too loud. It was more people than he could imagine existing, and yet, he knew it was nothing compared to the entirety of Vale. The world was large- far larger than Lordran ever had been.

Still, he had trouble shaking the feeling something was wrong. The feeling in his stomach hadn't gone away, even after leaving the stadium. There was a presence on the edge of his senses, slipping in and out of detection. Perhaps he was just being paranoid?

Doubting his gut had never worked out for him before, though. He needed to stay alert, try and figure out _just_ what was distracting-

"C'mon Sibyl, Winter _must_ be on there!" Weiss called out to him, shaking him out of his thoughts and already moving ahead of him, tugging on his arm all the while. He tried to fight it, but ended up smiling as he allowed her to pull him along. It was pleasant, being pulled around and wanted. It was also unfamiliar.

So many things were unfamiliar these days..

Hardly any time had passed before they were at where Winter's vessel was landing. Weiss tightened her grip on his arm, pulling him super close and trying to maintain her stoic facade all the while. Couldn't look too happy; someone might be watching.

She wasn't nearly as uptight as she used to be, but sometimes she fell back into old habits.

Winter, the woman of the hour, soon exited her dropship, drawing looks from all around as some robotic guards followed behind her. He could appreciate their presence; metallic men weren't all too different from the iron golem, after all, and it seemed humanity had managed to harness a much lesser strength and put it within these beings. He had seen them work during the breach. A great many lives had been saved thanks to their arrival.

He could respect Atlas for such contributions, if nothing else.

Blinking and coming out of his own thoughts, he tried to school his features as Weiss pulled him closer to Winter. Winter's eyes bore into his own visible one, and he returned the gaze with a bit of embarrassment. He had nearly slugged her in the jaw, after all.

Winter finally broke their staring contest, turning to Weiss and softening her gaze. Sibyl felt his lips pull up at the sight, impossible to contain his attempt at stoicism. Such had never been his style, anyways.

"Sibyl, Weiss," Winter greeted, being sure to speak slowly so her lips might be read by her younger sister. As easy a method as any, provided Weiss was given time to process and stare.

"Winter! It's great to see you. I wasn't sure if you'd be staying for the festival, given we're not going to be… _in it_ **,** but…" Weiss's excitement stumbled to a finish as she spoke, gaze turning towards the dull-looking concrete below. Winter opened her mouth to respond, and she might have even spoke had Sibyl not cleared his throat.

Really, was he the only one who thought around here? Granted, Winter had hardly spent as much time around Weiss as he had, but still.

The older sister settled on placing a hand upon Weiss's shoulder, squeezing firmly. Sibyl turned his eyes away from the moment, not particularly interested in impeding upon family matters. The tender moment passed in due time, and before he knew it, the three were walking in a comfortable silence along the walkway.

Winter explained her being here in simple words that Weiss could easily read: she was here for Sibyl, at Ironwood's request and per their agreement on sharing his magics for the good of all.

Indeed, Sibyl had been wondering when they'd finally push that agreement of theirs along. It seemed such a time had come, and his feelings on it were decidedly mixed.

Sacred vows, broken… but if they were broken for a noble purpose, perhaps it was alright? Complex questions, indeed. He sometimes felt as if he was drowning, overwhelmed by everything. How he sometimes longed for simpler times…

As the three continued on in a peaceful silence, a sudden metallic clang sounded behind them. Sibyl tensed up, one hand reaching for the Silver Knight Straight Sword he had kept at his side, unknowingly startling an unaware Weiss.

"Hey!" An irritatingly familiar voice sounded, and as Sibyl fully turned around he blinked, because standing there was one Qrow, the very first person he had seen upon entering this world. "Ice Queen, keeping some different company these days, eh? Finally realize only robots, family, and… uh, weird hooded people can stand you?"

Qrow either didn't recognize him, or was playing a fool. Truthfully, it was hard to tell.

"The company I keep is of no concern to you, Qrow." Qrow laughed at Winter's reply, giving the robotic head at his feet a good kick and sending it off to the side.

"See, I think it is. I've gotta watch out for the people you keep around you; you might just go and betray them, like your boss." His eyes narrowed and Sibyl tensed up, putting a hand in front of Weiss. He needed to stop this before it got out of control.

"I'm not sure what you're implying, but-" Winter's hand reached down for her weapon as she responded, and Sibyl stepped in, grabbing a hold of her wrist firmly. She glared at him.

He wasn't very intimidated.

"Winter, he is goading you. He's not very good at it," Sibyl added, giving the man who'd found him so long ago a long look, "but he likes to think he is, and persistence is key to such things."

Qrow, annoying drunk that he was, stayed staring for a few moments before blinking, leaning forward and examining Sibyl from a distance with squinted eyes. After a few moments of impolite staring Qrow leaned back and whistled, "Damn, kid. You look worse than when I picked you up, and that's saying something."

Winter took a threatening step forward, but Sibyl couldn't stop laughter from bubbling out of his throat. "True enough, Qrow. You also smell worse than I remember," he said, feigning a sniff and putting a hand on Weiss's shoulders in an attempt to relieve the tension in her body, fraught with confusion.

"Yeah, well... " Qrow took a quiet whiff of himself before shrugging, "I don't keep much company these days either. And the company I do keep just had the fucking rug pulled out from beneath of him," he drawled out, his eyes sharp and as calculating as the blade on his back as he watched all of them for a reaction.

"Stop this, immediately," Sibyl instructed, looking between the two feuding adults before him. "It's embarrassing to set such bad examples in front of a crowd such as this. We are all comrades, regardless of what methods we use to defend this world. Perhaps we ought to act like it?"

Qrow rolled his eyes. "Relax eyepatch," he drawled out, "I wasn't going to start anything."

Sibyl raised a brow.

"No, really, I wasn't! I was going to make _her_ be the one who started it."

That, Sibyl found much easier to believe. "Semantics don't suit you, Qrow. Now, do you have a proper reason for bothering a family reunion, or do you simply relish taking joy out of any situation?" Sibyl asked, to which the old drunk grumbled, but gave no real response.

"Fine, fine. Go do whatever the hell… _wait a minute,_ just what _are_ you doing with two ice-queens?"

Winter cleared her throat, attention turning to her. "I am here per Ironwoods request; he wishes to bring Sibyl aboard one of our vessels for research purposes." Qrow muttered something under his breath, shaking his head in irritation before gesturing at Weiss.

"And her? And, hell, why hasn't miss prissy uttered a word this whole time?" Sibyl sighed, putting an arm around the 'prissy' heiress of his heart.

"Weiss was rendered deaf in defending Vale during the breach; she is also my girlfriend, as you people say. I'd prefer that you watch your tongue when speaking of her." Qrow stared at her for a moment, eventually settling for giving a respectful nod.

"Huh. Not too bad, kid. I prefer a bit more, uh… _in the chest,_ but not bad." Winter's brow twitched in irritation as Qrow rolled his shoulder. "Well, fine, I'll let you two go do whatever it is Ironwood wants to do with you. I'm going to go get something to fucking drink," he muttered, giving Weiss a long look. Sibyl noticed it easily.

"Don't fret in your own way, Qrow," he said, unable to stop his free hand from clenching. "She shall recover from her deafness, and _I_ shall find whoever hurt her so… and hurt them much, _much_ worse."

He snorted, shaking his head at Sibyl's words. "You better, kid."

With that, he went his separate way. Sibyl blew a bit of air at the antics, and settled for being happy he was here to defuse whatever escalation might have occured between Winter and him. Conflict between friends was something he had never been a fan of. There was too much evil elsewhere to interfight.

"Sibyl, when you do find whoever hurt my sister," Winter said, voice suitably chilling, "make it slow."

He nodded. He could do that, and for whatever reason, her words had sparked the feeling from earlier to return, and given his more alert state of mind, he was about ready to snap and follow that damn source until he figured out whatever it was-

"W-what is going on? Who was that?" Weiss questioned, brow furrowed. Gah. His suspicions would have to wait. Weiss drew his attention with such a cute look too easily.

As they continued walking, Sibyl took the time to write out the incident with Qrow in more detail for Weiss to digest. He was mostly upfront with the details; she did not need to feel left out of anything. Though, the final words he exchanged with Qrow and Winter kept out. Promises, he found, meant much less when spoken about.

A true promise was kept in the soul, and he promised to render whoever had hurt not only Weiss herself, but the people of Vale into a smashed, red pastry on the floor. No matter the cost.

* * *

Even she had to admit, it was… _odd_ watching Sibyl be tested like some sort of rat. She couldn't _hear,_ but it was obvious whenever General Ironwood leaned forward into the mic he was giving instructions to Sibyl. She had watched in fascination that had never ceased since the day they had met in that courtyard as he went through spell by spell, pyromancy by pyromancy, and finally, a few of his more deadly miracles on a multitude of captured Grimm.

The General had been waiting for them upon arrival, and greeted them with no small amount of enthusiasm and gusto. She was glad to see that, at least. She had heard rumors that Ironwood was a… stern man, but he seemed as if he just wanted to help. A rare breed of person in Atlas, a land that only seemed to care about appearances. His attitude, combined with someone who had the resources and drive, was a very good thing. She could admit to admiring him.

And it was very noble of Sibyl to lend aid, especially since he considered some of these arts sacred. It was easy for him to spread pyromancy and sorcery; he always said those two arts deserved to be had by all. Fire was meant to spread, so who was he to stop it? As for sorcery, only tyrants kept knowledge to themselves, and what was sorcery but the ultimate pursuit of knowledge? But his miracles… they were a different breed. Special, more noble, more… well, she didn't know how else to describe them.

Miracles were perhaps the best way to describe them, actually. Because every time Sibyl conjured a bolt of lightning, something just… _changed._ He went from Sibyl to something _more._ It was like watching a figure more than a person.

She almost giggled, the only thing keeping her silent being that Winter and Ironwood were so nearby. That was _her_ boyfriend. The smile on her face nearly hurt.

Truly, she was lucky, and ever since Sibyl's arrival, things had taken a better turn. She dared to _hope_ these days. Things could change. Things could get better. And while these thoughts drifted in her mind for a long time, they eventually left.

Slowly, the mood began to shift, and Weiss cursed that she couldn't hear any of the hushed words discussed by those beside her.

* * *

Her sister certainly picked an interesting boyfriend. Hearing about him was one thing; seeing the entire range of what he was capable of? It was entirely different, and nearly overwhelming.

It was incredible to think he'd already begun teaching others these arts to great effect. Especially her sister, she could only imagine Weiss casting that 'Crystal Soul Spear' which had smashed and decimated an alpha beowolf without any difficulty.

What he was doing was downright evolutionary. These advancements would change the whole world, not to mention sorcery was the only thing that had saved her sister from certain death. Had she yet to thank Sibyl for that? Perhaps she should.

Still, as interesting as all of his abilities were, something was bothering her. Something that just failed to make sense.

"They seem oddly aggressive," Winter observed, cocking a brow in how _every_ Grimm that came at Sibyl came with unnatural hate. Even more, whenever he _looked_ at one, they would get even more wild. She'd heard that Grimm would act more aggressive around negative emotions, but to her knowledge, Sibyl _wasn't_ all that negative. And, besides, if his negative aura was that high, it would make more sense for every Grimm on the ship to aim for him regardless.

But no, it was only those he looked at that seemed to lose what little sense they had.

"I have a theory," Ironwood said, apparently having noticed the same thing she had, "lets see how honest our friend can be." Crossing his arms before leaning into the nearby mic to speak, Ironwood was more tense than she'd seen in a long time. "Mr. Sibyl, do any of your magics have… unnatural effects on the Grimm, such as drawing their aggression?"

Behind the glass, Sibyl shifted before speaking into the mic that had been attached to his collar. "It is no magic of mine, General." It was obvious he was leaving something out; Winter didn't need to be an Atlas specialist to see that.

"Do you have any idea on what it _could_ be?" Ironwood continued to press, and Sibyl seemed to spend a moment internally debating something before he sighed.

"It is my damned eye, infected with the abyss." He spat the word- _abyss._ What did it mean? "I noticed it some time ago, when myself and Professor Port went on a hunting trip. The Grimm are drawn to the abyss like moths to a flame; perhaps their own dark essence is originated in it," he inquired with a shrug.

"So it acts like a beacon," Ironwood rumbled next to her, his eyes lit with _something._ "Mr. Sibyl, this is an incredible breakthrough. Your other magics might help turn the tide, but if we could harness the… _abyss,_ as you call it, we might very well be able to-"

" _No."_ Sibyl declared. His voice was off, not as warm as she was used to it being. "The abyss, General, is not to be touched _."_

What were they talking about? His eye? She hadn't seen anything odd about his eye… though, the other one was always covered. It seemed there was something hidden beneath that eyepatch.

"Don't be a fool, Sibyl- this abyss, it could be used to draw all the Grimm into one massive trap, wiping them clean! It could save _millions-_!"

" _No!"_ He hissed, turning towards the glass and _punching it,_ hairline fractures spreading all across the window that let them gaze into the chamber. "The abyss is not a _tool,_ General. It cannot be controlled. It cannot be used. It is meant only to consume, to _corrupt._ To willingly use the abyss is to willingly damn oneself to its sickness, something far, _far_ more deadly than even the hordes of the Grimm."

Ironwood scoffed. "So you're scared of it? You're not in _your_ world, Sibyl. Whatever society fell to it in your time, _we are not them,"_ he said, gazing hard at Sibyl from the other side of the glass.

Your world? What in Remnant were they talking about? Ironwood, he was making it sound like-

"I have slain the Gods themselves, Ironwood _._ I ventured _into_ the Abyss, an endless sea of black _void,_ and even conquered the Father of the Abyss himself. Don't you _dare_ accuse me of being scared of anything. You stand here, patronizing me, when you yourself are a child. An ignorant child who has only grazed the depths of despair in the pitiful form of the _Grimm._ They are but beasts, Ironwood. The Abyss is something more primal. Something to be abandoned, forgotten and moved on from."

"There are more factors at play than just the Grimm," Ironwood growled, face red from being insulted. Winter kept quiet, but… what were the other factors?

"And if you think the Abyss is the answer to _any_ factor, you're a bigger fool than I thought. Have you not spoken to Dusk?" Fists clenched, Ironwood grit his teeth and cleared his throat.

"We will speak on this later-"

" _No,"_ Sibyl interrupted Ironwood, and Winter almost intervened at the disrespect. The only thing that stopped her was how out of her depths she felt. "There will be no discussion on this. I am already breaking sacred vows, throwing lightning spears at dumb beasts for _science._ You have pushed me far enough, Ironwood, and I even admire it. But I will not bulge. The abyss is off limits."

Winter could tell Ironwood's mind was still thinking of the possibilities, but he decided discrecion to be the better part of valor. "Very well. I believe we are about wrapped up here. I thank you for spending your time here and assisting us. As agreed, upon the fixing of Weiss's hearing, I'd like to receive what you've written on these arts."

Sibyl gave a single nod, moving over to one of the doors on the far side. Weiss was already rushing out to meet him, entirely confused and uncomfortable with what she had witnessed in silence.

Resisting the urge to go out there with her sister, she kept her facade cool. Her mind was racing, but being a Schnee had taught her how to deal with internal thoughts.

"Sir?" She questioned, giving Ironwood a side glance.

"He's a fool. The abyss could be used to fix all our problems. He's stubborn, but even the most stubborn can be made to see reason, one way or another."

Winter could have _sworn_ she heard something, and realized that it was probably just commotion outside.

"But, I'll respect his wishes," He assured, though he still looked quite peeved. "Even if I do want to discuss this with Ozpin," he added.

"What is the abyss? I feel as if I've missed something important," Winter wondered, hoping she might be kept in the loop. Ironwood trusted her, afterall.

"...I trust you Winter. And while usually I would hesitate, given how close he is with your sister and the latent threat he presents, I feel you deserve to know. But this is strictly classified," Ironwood warned her, and she nodded seriously.

She would never betray Ironwood's trust.

As she learned more and more about Sibyl, the more she wondered. And the more she wondered, the more she worried.

* * *

Blackmail was so unsavory, which might explain why he enjoyed it so much. His original plan had been a bit more complex than the one that had just gone off without a hitch, not to mention far more risky. He had to thank that insufferable Qrow for getting those he had been spying on for sometime now to speak so openly.

Their previous idea of spying on Ozpin, sneaking into his office? It had even made him sweat a little bit, but Ironwood? That was much, much simpler. Luck had been on his side lately; he had been worried they might have to use Emerald's semblance to foster a scenario which might be enough to scare little Sibyl off.

Instead, an enchanted ring and a bit of sorcery had been all he needed to slip through and trail his targets for hours. Well, that and a few timely distractions.

Sibyl, much as Chester despised the bastard, was sharp. Several times he'd looked in his direction, stared at transparent air a bit _too_ closely before something grabbed his attention. Luckily, that damnable girl kept him so very, _very_ distracted. He would have to track her down later, and thank her… personally.

Slipping his ring of fog off, Chester whistled a happy tune as he wandered into their dorm. The kids should be out doing whatever it was Cinder had likely tasked them with. Perfect, given his good news was about to set a particular mood.

His lovely was sitting patiently on her bed, scroll in hand. She neither blinked nor rose a brow when he entered the room. "How'd it go?" She asked, idly swiping at something, and he gave a chuckle.

"Oh, the General hung himself with more than enough rope." Reaching into his coat, he grabbed his scroll that had been recording audio from the moment he snuck onto that ship where Sibyl had been tested like the wild dog he was.

Cinder took the scroll with a raised brow, and Chester quickly fast-forwarded to the most juicy bits.

He couldn't contain his smirk as the words that would damn Vale were spoken. " _He's a fool," General Ironwood spat out, anger seeping, "The abyss could be used to fix all our problems. He's stubborn, but even the most stubborn can be made to see reason, one way or another."_

They ignored his next sentence- a simple edit was all they'd need to make a fool of Sibyl. But, in the event more was needed…

 _"Given how close he is with your sister and the latent threat he presents, I feel you deserve to know."_

It was a goldmine! They had General Ironwood recording, _betraying_ Sibyl's trust and trying to turn others against him. Oh, and Winter's reaction to learning that the 'ol chosen undead could snap, go insane and possibly kill her sister?

They had _everything_ they needed. All Emerald would need is a few hours to cut the tape up, get the juiciest bits… and a concerned, old friend would approach, explain that he'd overheard some concerning info while taking a stroll through Beacon.

Sibyl would be suspicious. Rightfully so, too, but suspicion or not, he'd be too worried. If he got to the tipping point but didn't quite fall, that's where Emerald's specialty would come in.

"Well, you really outdid yourself," Cinder purred, giving him a shiver-inducing look.

"Perhaps a reward ought to be in order?" She laughed at his words.

"Perhaps."

* * *

"You can't be serious, Ozpin." Glynda said, eyes narrowed _._ It had been a very, _very_ long time since she ever doubted the man in front of her, but here she was. The very idea- the manipulation, the conniving-

Ozpin hummed at her words, digesting them as he always did. It was infuriating. "Ironwood has brought to me an important piece, Glynda-" No, this was not happening. She was not going to deal with these chess analogies. Ozpin needed a reality check. These were _kids._ They weren't Salem. They were supposed to have standards!

"Stop. They're not _pieces_ on a board, they're _children._ Children who happen to trust you; children who I deal with quite often. Children that I _care_ about!" She was out of breath, her riding crop clenched so hard in her hand she worried that the metal itself might get crushed. Ozpin shook his head sadly, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Please, Glynda. I don't intend to abuse the advantages that come from this position. Despite what you seem to think as of late, I am _not_ Salem." It was getting harder and harder to buy that line these days. "Sibyl needs to be kept in check. Sibyl, additionally, is one of the strongest beings in Remnant. It makes _sense,_ and it works out for everyone. I don't intend to manipulate them into being my puppets; rather, I'm trying to make the most out of every situation.

She pinched her nose. This is why debating Ozpin was pointless. He got so caught up in everything he never focused on the _little things._ Yes, he wasn't Salem, but sometimes, he stooped to her level. "We both know she'll accept," Glynda said, and Ozpin nodded.

"Of course she will. And she will be the safest of all the maidens, given Sibyl will never leave her side." This was _Weiss,_ though. She didn't deserve to get involved in all of... _this._ Sibyl had enough on his plate, anyways, and he might single-handedly end this silly shadow war of theirs indirectly. Why did they have to get even more entangled? Why couldn't children just _be children?_ Glynda was tired. She remembered before Sibyl showed up, before she got so... _close_ with some of her students. Before, it had been more easy to wave off some of Ozpin's actions. Now?

"How many maidens have ever been _happy,_ Ozpin?" He was silent, contemplating the question. It was all the answer she needed.

"It will be different," He assured. "Maidens often feel isolated, as well as though they have the weight of the world on their shoulders. She will have Sibyl, and Sibyl... well, I daresay he's stronger than a maiden." Empty words were all it took for her to consider ruining her students- and her _friends,_ no matter how young- future. She could see a world where everything worked out. Where Sibyl and Weiss save the world, and are happy doing so all the while. She could even see it giving Sibyl the fulfillment he so desires, absolving him of his stupid guilt.

She sighed. Life was disgustingly awful. "What about the abyss? You don't actually agree with James, do you?" Ozpin shook his head, and she felt a great deal of relief. At least Ozpin wasn't _that_ desperate.

"No. I've seen and heard what the abyss can do. Some things aren't meant to be trifled with." Good, at least that was one worry off her back. The nerve of James, to have marched in here earlier and try to talk about Sibyl as if his sickness was just a tool to be used for some brief victory. He didn't even realize that Sibyl could also be their worst defeat. All it would take is for him to reach the tipping point and fall the wrong way.

"Good. Just... Ozpin, we both know something is going to happen. I know why you're trying to do these things," she said, grasping at metaphorical straws to try and figure out her point. "Please, don't forget to _protect_ them, too. They're your students first." He nodded sagely, looking out his office window and onto his school.

"Everything I do is for them, Glynda. I wish them the very best."

* * *

Weiss stared at the stars above, her face marred in a thoughtful frown. Sibyl has, in an uncharacteristic moment, requested some time alone. Given that it was _so_ uncharacteristic, she had actually been more than willing to give it. It was obvious- and a complete mystery- as to what had him so on edge. Clearly, whatever had happened with Ironwood, which he had only explained to her in very sparse details, had been about as serious as it seemed.

Maybe he was having another breakdown about his vows again? He always said certain miracles meant a lot to him, and he had shown his entire arsenal to General Ironwood. Still, Sibyl would be upset with himself, not so… _nervous._ It was odd, and she cursed her lack of hearing a thousand times over. If she had been able to hear what was going on, she might have actually been able to make sense of her current situation.

Instead, here she was, wishing she was half as useful as Sibyl had been in assisting her. Not to mention she barely had an idea on what had happened with the Vytal festival! She genuinely had no idea on if Sun's team had advanced or not, and the finals were just around the corner! Life was such a mess as of late…

Weiss _jumped_ out of her skin as a hand laid itself on her shoulder, quickly turning around and getting into a rough stance for a potential fist fight unsheathing her blade and facing her foe. It was _him;_ she'd never forget that mask. She snarled, not taking a chance to give him even half a second to-

She blinked. Her strike had been blocked, and as her vision cleared itself, she realized the person she had just almost assaulted was _Headmaster Ozpin!_ Her face lit up red, and she scrambled to sheath her blade while apologizing- with words she couldn't hear- at the same time.

The Headmaster. It was the headmaster, and she had just tried to skewer him with-

As tears formed and she sniffed, a gentle hand laid itself on her shoulder. She dared to look into the headmaster's eyes, and he offered her a gentle smile. "I'm so sorry," she said through choked breath, probably, "I just- I saw _him_ and-"

Ozpin waved away her worries with one hand, giving her a gentle rub on the back before reaching into his back pocket and offering a small note. She took it, wiping at her eyes before squinting to read it.

' _Do you believe in fairy tales?'_

* * *

 _ **Once more, thank you to everyone who has continued to follow this even after such a long drought. You loyal, as they say. Review or not, entirely up to you!(Though shout-out to the two people who PM'd me that finally managed to get me to iron out this chapter)**_


	20. Sins Fly Upon Black Feathers

_**Hello again. In excellence news, while the last chapter took forever, we're getting to stuff that has been in my mind since I first started this story, and that means it's going from my head to written quickly. It reminds me of when I finally reached the Blake reveal arc, which was something I'd always had pictured in my head on how I wanted it to go. Hopefully the pace lasts! Thanks for all those who left reviews, especially a few of the old-heads who've been around since as long as this story has been.**_

* * *

' _Do you believe in fairy tales?'_

Weiss blinked. Fairy tales? She thought about the words for a few moments, rereading the note she had in front of her to ensure she'd read it right. She gave a glance at Ozpin through watery eyes, but his face didn't betray this as some sort of prank. So, instead, she decided to think about the question. The Headmaster of Beacon Academy did not ask pointless questions.

Did she believe in fairy tales? When she had been very young, yes, she had. All children did, really. What child didn't want to believe in shining knights in armor, of wonders beyond the real world? Of love and good fortune? Especially in Atlas, and especially as a Schnee.

Yet the Schnee life didn't make way for fairy tales. Her life had been grounded in reality for all but her earliest years. It was all business. Fairy tales were childish and foolish, made up by people who wanted to ignore the way things were and imagine a better life. That had been her opinion, at least.

Then a buffoon of outlandish proportions, who took such concepts as normal and smashed them to pieces, entered her life and flipped her perceptions of life upside down and sideways. She had met someone who laughed at the word impossible, and she found some humor in it now, too.

So yes, she did believe in fairy tales. Not exactly, but… well, she could at least entertain the thought of them a lot more reasonably. Fairy tales weren't real, but the legends they were based off of? Those could be very, very real. After all the stories she had heard, it would have been beyond silly to dismiss them.

She felt it was a fair view. She didn't just blindly believe everything, but inevitably, one or two of those ancient legends had to have a merit of truth to them. Sibyl himself was a testament to that very concept.

Wits gathered, she looked at the headmaster and nodded. She was also glad to note her tears had dried up. Crying in front of the headmaster… it was embarrassing. Almost as embarrassing as nearly stabbing him.

Ozpin nodded sagely at her answer, idly entering a message on his scroll all the while. Weiss so wished her sign language was better, but she'd have to rely on written messages for a bit longer.

' _I'm glad to see you keep an open mind. I'm quite fond of such tales myself. In fact, I even have a favorite one. The Story of the Four Seasons.'_ Weiss squinted, rereading the message.

She could vaguely remember some details about that story. Widely popular among children, and she had been no different. Four maidens showed kindness to an old hermit in their own ways, and in return, he blessed them with incredible powers and they became the embodiment of the four seasons. It was hardly a revolutionary story, as far as children's tales went.

Clearly, it was meant to teach children that kindness was good and people would- or should- repay it. There were hundreds of stories like it, yet Ozpin claimed it as his favorite.

' _Do you believe in fairy tales?'_ He'd asked her, a seemingly very simple question. Yet the more she thought about it, the more it was anything _but._

It was ridiculous, but so was the idea of an undead knight from another world, where gods and demons _actually_ existed and he'd slain them both. If she had never met Sibyl, she'd dismiss the Headmaster as insane and go on her way. If there was one thing she'd learned here at Beacon, it was that _life_ was insane. Nothing made sense, and she'd been ignorant of a lot prior to coming here.

' _Judging from your face, I think you've heard of it, and you've also managed to connect a few dots along the way,'_ Ozpin's new message read, and she wanted so strongly to say _anything,_ but talking felt so pointless when he'd have to write out responses. She'd just need to sort through all the information and implications herself.

Four maidens- fall, spring, summer, and winter- blessed with incredible power. The embodiments of the seasons.

' _Four souls, giving way to all of life,' Sibyl said, 'A god of Sunlight; a chaos witch and her daughters; a miasma being of death, and a forgotten pygmy. The fundamental pillars of my world as I knew it.'_

It sounded so impossible; both did, yet she knew the latter to be true. What was so outrageous about the former, then? Nothing was, so why did she not want to believe it?

She'd already dealt with an undead knight from another world, now a silly fairy tale being true? What was she about to get involved in?

' _I have something I'd like to show you, miss Schnee.'_ It was a simple offer, but the idea of taking him up on it made her pause. She already had enough on her plate. She didn't need another mess, but here she was, forced to wonder what else in her life was about to change. Endless changes at a million miles a second had all she'd dealt with since arriving at Beacon.

In spite of all that, one thing rang true.

The idea of saying no was impossible. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't. She was already drowning, what was another few feet? And… and Ozpin, he was wise. He wouldn't be coming to her for no reason. He certainly had a reason. Perhaps a very important reason. A reason she'd never know if she turned around and went back to her dorm.

And… perhaps it was selfish, but she had a suspicion on what might be asked of her. Something that would make it so she could _never_ be hurt again, by anyone. Especially not him.

Weiss did the only thing reasonable in her mind. She followed him.

* * *

It was as if an anchor was dragging him down below the wakes, and he was left grasping at the surface. As if he was a spark of light in the abyss, drowned out in an endless expanse of darkness. Somehow, these feelings were worse than he could remember them ever being on his original quest throughout Lordran. Why was that?

He knew the answer, and it made him both uncomfortable and warm, knowing what was at stake these days. It was more important to him than the stake of the undead ever had been.

These… worries, had resurfaced after his meeting with Ironwood. Everything felt wrong; why, everything felt wrong since the start of the day. A sense of danger had been pricking on the edge of his senses, and he'd more or less ignored it until it had turned into the raging inferno it was now.

A sort of wrongness he'd only ever felt on his way out of Lost Izalith, where he had discovered his worst nightmare come true. He knew he had an uncanny knack for these things, a sort of unparalleled sense. The smell of danger was not one to pass him by, and his nostrils were flaring at the scent.

The source? Well, if there was one thing he felt could consistently be blamed for the nasty state of the world, it was people. Sometimes evil, sometimes well-meaning. Regardless, disaster did not care for your intentions.

James Ironwood was dangerous. Most definitely an individual with good intentions, but those were often the most dangerous. The road to Izalith had been paved with the greatest intentions of all- to save an entire kingdom and the world around it. It had ended in disaster. A foolish witch once sought to save the world, and now, a foolish general saw fit to do the same. Sibyl doubted the outcome would be much better. In fact, he had a feeling it would end up worse.

The fool did not know who and with what he was trying to deal with. He saw the abyss as a magic, just another art to profit off of. It was ironic, too, considering Dusk worked for him. Had she stayed hushed on the topic of the abyss? It was certainly possible; he doubted it was a pleasant subject to discuss.

Ironwood, if he did not listen to those around him, would see the hard way the only results that come from trying to make a deal with the abyss. He had seen it doom two kingdoms; it would not doom a third. Not while he was around.

The abyss could not be used. He did his damn best to never use it, and he _still_ always felt its pull. Even now, it was feeding off his paranoia, trying to get him to give in, to channel his suspicions into unbridled anger. He would not allow it to do so, but the lies it whispered in his head to try and get him to crack were hard to ignore.

Because at the end of the day, he felt the lies had a hint of merit. The best ones always did, after all. A good lie distorted the truth, mistold it. It did not outright deceive. Even worse was the fact he was forced to agree with the merit of truth in these lies. He had no other answers to give himself comfort.

James Ironwood was very interested in the abyss, and he might seek to do the unspeakable.

Meditating as he was currently doing was hardly any help to his worries; all it did was give him nothing to focus on but his worst fears. He needed something to _do._ If only Yang or Weiss was around... he regretted his decision to send the latter away, and the former was doing who knows what.

Teaching some pyromancy or sorcery would have calmed him down. Maybe.

Instead, perhaps focusing on the good Ironwood was trying to do would make his senses ease. Ironwood, despite being a fool, was a well-intentioned being. He wanted to save people. Sibyl had a hard time foreseeing a future where the sharing of his pyromancy, sorceries, or miracles was ever a negative.

It might hurt his soul to do so, at least in the case of miracles, but the boon would be felt by all, and he could hang his hat on that at least.

Sibyl moved over to his bench, sitting down and opening his journal which was nearly complete. It would soon list every spell, every pyromancy and miracle he'd ever come across in meticulous detail. Sorcery was without a doubt the easiest of the three subjects to write about, given it was all theory. His experience in reading textbooks here had made him quite acute in writing one, it seemed. He chuckled, remembering his earlier times when some words had confused him to death.

In the spirit of inspiration, while he had listed all his known sorceries, he had another journal which outlined spells and pyromancies he was trying to develop. A lot of the concepts he'd spent time on, trying to find an answer to Weiss's hearing issues had a great deal of promise. Most were incredibly complex spells he simply needed to flesh out. Their usefulness would be unparalleled.

Pyromancy, as far as listing of his spells in the encyclopedia, was more difficult than sorcery but manageable. It focused more on the feeling of the flame, which could be harder to explain. He was thankful he had experience teaching Yang, it helped him explain these things. The theoretical knowledge, while not as intense as sorcery, also helped.

Miracles, however, felt damn near impossible to properly describe. Clearly they could still be used here; he had demonstrated that countless times. The issue, then, is that no one but him would ever believe the tales of the Gods. Miracles required belief, _faith_ in what they were saying to work. The people of this world would scoff at them.

It didn't help that, while he believed the Gods tales, his actual faith was often lacking. There were so many miracles he knew but had long ago lost the ability to actually cast. Only his sunlight miracles and the variations of force really worked for him these days.

Incredibly useful miracles, yes, but they paled in comparison to what the wide scale ability to cast the variations of Heal would do. Sometimes, he wished he was still as enchanted with the Gods as he had once been, but alas, the illusion had been broken. The Gods were no more perfect than man was.

Sibyl sighed, jotting down some details on the Guidance miracle… actually, perhaps that would give him some help here? It had been useful in his earliest days, when he had very little idea on what to do. The guidance could always vary, sometimes a vague sentence in his head, others a blurry vision, and once, a black-feathered bird.

It was certainly worth a chance, given his current ideas were falling flat. It had been a long time since he sought divine guidance. He truly _was_ pushed to the edge, to be the desperate.

He grabbed his sunlight talisman, shaking his head to clear his thoughts and get in the right mindset. The Gods, foolish as they had been, were to be thanked for the world's very existence. That, he believed whole-heartedly. And there was only one God whom he respected, and as the Guidance miracle dictated, any God could be called upon for assistance in times of need.

Velka, the Mistress of Sin, would guide his way. ' _She who watches, of black feathers and dark thoughts,'_ She'd always been there, from the beginning. A great crow, embarking him to Lordran, ' _she who judges, and she who deems;'_ Sins of all, even the Gods, punished, ' _O' Velka, of purity and the darkest sins, glimpse my soul and offer a glimpse into thee,'_ He held his breath as the internal cadence ended, waiting to see if anything might visit him.

Several seconds passed, and he quickly realized more literal guidance would not come so quickly. Velka was the least direct of all the Gods, after all. An unfortunate reality, but he held out some help she might show him guidance yet. She had been watching over him since day one in Lordran. That was what he had to believe.

Until such a time she might help him again, perhaps a walk around campus to calm his nerves?

* * *

Glynda tried her very best to offer a comforting smile to Weiss, but it was difficult. Very difficult, given the sight behind her was one of Amber stuck in a chamber keeping her on life support. She was essentially dead, only kept alive in the barest sense of the word so the Maiden's powers didn't slip away or into the wrong hands.

While incredibly tragic, it wasn't the reality of Amber's situation which made Glynda's skin crawl. Her and Amber hadn't been overly close, so while she was certainly upset, it shouldn't have made her feel like… this.

The reason she shivered was because every time she looked at the chamber, she pictured Weiss in there instead. Features morphed and hair changed colors; before she knew it, one of her closest students was a corpse kept staving off death. And for what? A war that's been going on for centuries, and one that probably wouldn't end anytime soon.

She wanted to stop this whole charade. To throw Weiss out of this chamber, to rant and rave at Ozpin until he finally gave up on making her the Maiden, but she didn't for one simple reason. When it came down to it, Glynda couldn't think of anyone better than Weiss to hold the Maiden's power. She wanted to be selfish; she really did. Yet she'd made an oath when she joined Ozpin's circle, and it was to make the best decisions for the world.

Maturity, skill, and the right situation combined to make her the perfect candidate. The power of the Maiden wasn't going to ruin her life; she'd given up on being Heiress to the Schnee Corporation long ago, and she had a strong group of friends who Glynda couldn't imagine abandoning her if they found out. Skill? Only two students in the school Glynda believed could consistently beat Weiss: Pyrrha and Sibyl, and she wasn't positive about the former anymore.

Sibyl, though, was really the key as to what made Weiss the perfect candidate. He would not be intimidated by the Maiden power. Nothing could intimidate him, and he would be perfect as both a guardian, friend, and lover to Weiss. He had already made her much stronger with his sorceries. Overtime, she was sure he'd teach Weiss more of his arts, and even get her own ability with a blade up to par.

Whoever had ambushed and put Amber in this state were lucky Sibyl was not there, because if he had been there, Glynda knew they'd be dead. That was the key. It all came back to Sibyl. It was like one cruel joke; the only thing that could save them all should have never showed up in the first place.

How could Glynda look at the situation in front of her- a situation Weiss was perfectly suited to deal with- and thrust this burden onto someone else? Pyrrha and Dusk were their other two choices. The latter was too involved with Atlas and Ironwood. Pyrrha, while she was strong, yes, she also lacked a certain something. It was hard to put a finger on it, but she was just missing a key ingredient.

In the end, Glynda was forced to grit her teeth, fake a smile, and hope things worked out in the end.

Ozpin was waiting patiently for Weiss to turn to him, but her gaze was stuck on Amber behind the glass. She walked forward, reaching and pressing her hand against the glass, right in front of Amber's face. Who knew what she was thinking. Glynda knew what she was thinking.

' _Please, say no.'_

Weiss turned to face Ozpin, an unspoken question written on her face. It was answered with a nod. Yes, this was a Maiden. "W-What happen?" Weiss asked, so unsure. God, she really was just a child. How could she just stand here and let this happen? How?

Ozpin sighed, shaking his head sadly and making a few quick gestures with his hand. _'Enemies attacked._ ' Glynda felt her knuckles turn white at those words. Cowards had ambushed Amber, more like it. Three-on-one odds… it was a miracle Qrow had been around when the attack occurred, or else the Maiden power would entirely be with Salem's group.

Another life, snuffed out in this stupid game.

' _Enemies?'_ Weiss gestured back, and Ozpin nodded. He looked like he was going to try and continue the conversation, but realized it may get a bit too complex. It was awkward, trying to give Weiss these powers when she couldn't even hear presently. A brief risk if the attack they expected was going to occur, but the long term gains from her getting the power of the Maiden outweighed the risk. Supposedly.

Glynda found it hard to take that perspective seriously, given this was one of her closest students life they were talking about.

' _Enemies, yes. I cannot go into detail yet, but suffice to say, the Grimm are not entirely mindless.'_ Weiss was quiet as she read the message, eventually pushing the scroll back into Ozpin's chest. She turned, staring at Amber in that metal casket. She reached towards her abdomen, running a line across her stomach.

"Why am I here?" She said in a whisper, her eyes unblinking as she refused to break contact with Amber's face. Only gentle prodding from Ozpin got her to tear her eyes away and to the new message.

' _The Maiden power is usually chosen at random. However, these chambers you see can transfer their abilities directly.'_

She laughed, eyes wet and wide."You want me to… to finish killing her, absorb her powers?"

All were silent for a moment. _'She is hardly alive in her current state. I dread to see her this way, but the power of the Maiden must be protected. And the one I think best suited to protect it is you, Weiss Schnee. We can answer all your questions, should you accept.'_

Weiss shook her head through tears, looking at Ozpin and then Glynda herself with confusion. "This- this is a lot to take in. I… I need time to think," she uttered, pushing Ozpin out of her way as she turned and left the same way they'd come in. Glynda watched her go until she was out of sight.

"...I'm sorry, Glynda," Ozpin spoke, glancing over his shoulder at her. "I know you two are close, but you see it yourself, don't you?" Unfortunately, she did.

"Will this ever end, Ozpin?"

"For the first time in a long time, Glynda, I think it might."

* * *

It had been a pretty good day, Qrow decided. He'd gotten under Winter Schnee's skin, got to see his nieces, promptly destroy them in video games, and then both see and hear all about the weird kid he'd rescued so long ago. It was a bit surprising how much they seeped him in praise, honestly.

Then again, the kid had gone and made a bit of a name for himself. He'd trained Yang to fling fireballs and had a massive collection of weapons he let Ruby go through whenever she wanted. That was before you got into him saving Blake, who was their _other_ teammate, being a pretty nice guy all around, and his actions during the breach. Oh, he was also dating the little Schnee, who happened to be on a team with his nieces. It was no wonder both his nieces liked him so much.

He might have felt he needed to talk to the kid if not for the fact he was so obviously only for Weiss. Besides, Qrow wasn't sure if he even _could_ intimidate Sibyl. The kid had made fast friends with Glynda for fuck's sake. _Glynda!_

All in all, Qrow felt he deserved to give himself a pat on the back for all the good work that resulted in him bringing back Sibyl. Maybe he'd get a mention when the kid revolutionized the world with his magic. Sure, the kid had potential to go murder-freak on everyone, but didn't they all?

...Well, no, they didn't, but Qrow trusted the kid. He wouldn't let it come to that. He had too much to lose.

Cracking his neck, he nearly turned to make his way to Ozpin's tower for some late-night reporting when he saw the very same kid he was just thinking about. Sibyl was walking around the school at midnight, an emotionally constipated look on his face.

' _Oh God damn it,'_ He was going to have to be all… _mushy_ or something, wasn't he? He wasn't a damn therapist! But he also couldn't just leave the kid walking around like a beaten puppy. Emphasis on beaten, because his hoodie was down and anyone could see how much of a mess his head was. Missing an ear and an eye. Rough luck.

Right, well, it was time to act. He just needed to bridge the gap, be cool.

"How's it going, kid?" He asked, Sibyl pausing mid-step. He glanced backwards, raising a brow. Guess the kid hadn't been expecting him to pop up, but who ever _did?_

"Qrow," Sibyl said, turning to face him fully, "I wasn't expecting to cross you tonight."

Eh. Qrow shrugged, crossing his arms thereafter. "Oh, just got done hanging out with Ruby and Yang. Was going to go see Ozpin, but I saw you walking around looking like someone just spit in your cereal."

Sibyl chuckled, reaching back to scratch the back of his head. "I'm that obvious, am I?"

"Maybe I'm just sharp."

"Ah. So I _am_ that obvious."

Qrow kept his face straight for a few moments before chuckling. Kid could bite back, at least. Still, he was also avoiding the question. Sibyl, upon seeing his expectant face, deflated somewhat.

Sighing, he turned to stare at the stars above. "I decided a walk on campus might clear my mind… though, given your position, perhaps you could help, too." Ah, damn it. He really was going to get dragged into playing therapist.

Well, he'd volunteered himself for it. Reaching for the flask at his hip, he took a big gulp before wiping his lips. "Shoot, kid."

There was a pause before Sibyl spoke.

"What do you think about James Ironwood?"

Oh. Huh, well, that wasn't the question he was expecting. Qrow thought a _lot_ of things about James Ironwood. That he was both spineless and stubborn, kind and a jerk, ignorant and probably the smartest guy he knew. It would have been easy to put James under the torch, only list the bad… but Sibyl deserved an honest opinion.

"James… he's stubborn. More than anything, he's stubborn. He believes in his way, always thinks he knows best. Hell, he already managed to grapple control from Ozpin for this damn tournament." Qrow sighed, taking a deep breath to clear his mind. "Still, that said, he's just doing what he thinks is best. He's only trying to help. Good guy, but he's a stubborn idiot." Qrow watched Sibyl's face for any sort of reaction, and he did get one.

He just wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Thank you, Qrow. You've answered my worries." He shook his head, giving a small smile. "If you don't mind, I would enjoy some alone time. I've much to think about."

He'd done his good-samaritan act for the day, so sure. He had to go talk to Ozpin, anyways. "Yeah, not a problem, kid. Catch 'ya later."

Frankly, he was just glad the kid was having a few doubts about Ironwood. Qrow might have not liked the ass, but James wasn't someone you had to worry about. Besides, it was a good thing the two be on a good page; Qrow had finally been briefed on the deal they had going in. Sharing all those magics would do wonders for the world.

As they went their separate ways, Qrow just couldn't piece together what had felt so off about Sibyl's final smile.

* * *

Weiss was near tears as she left Ozpin's tower and that stupid chamber he'd taken her to. She was back onto the Beacon campus, a place she _knew._ A place she felt comfortable in, yet even that rung empty. What they had asked her- well, what _Ozpin_ had asked her was disgusting. It was only half the reason she felt so awful.

Glynda did her best to hide it, but she'd been uncomfortable from the moment Weiss was there. If that didn't tell her everything about what being a Maiden entailed then nothing would. Even more dreadful was that she'd have to kill someone- no matter how they explained it, no matter what a mercy it would be- to gain that power.

The worst part of it all? She was seriously considering it. _She wanted it._ She wanted the power of the Maiden. It- It was everything she'd ever dreamed of! The Maidens had to be the most important people in the entire world, because if they were anything like the story…

It was too perfect, and she felt sick to her stomach thinking about it like that. It was a place out of the spotlight of her family. She'd be important not because she was a Schnee, but because she was Weiss. They wanted to pick her because of who she was _,_ not who she had been or was related to.

And Grimm, they weren't mindless. Something was controlling them, and _it_ wanted the Maidens. What had attacked the girl, anyways? Maybe a new type of Grimm… or was it people? She didn't want to think anyone would be sick enough to side with the enemy of everyone, but recent experience told her otherwise. That was the other thing, too. The power of the Maiden would make it so _no one_ could hurt her again. If she ever came across that masked man again, she would _end him._

Her head was spinning. She could barely think _;_ she also couldn't do anything but think. Sleep sounded nice, but how could she sleep in a situation like this? She'd toss and turn all-

A hand waved lightly in front of her face, and she jumped back, turning to see whoever had put it there. She blinked. It was Sibyl.

Her shoulders instantly relaxed. Oh, Sibyl. In a world of doubt, he was a rock. She could rely on him. He was so wonderful… but she wasn't sure how to approach him right now. What would _he_ think about her situation? What would he think about her taking all that power, in getting involved in something so big, in becoming someone everyone might attack? If there was one thing Sibyl always talked about with regret, it was being the Chosen Undead _,_ and the Chosen Undead sounded remarkably similar to a Maiden the more she thought about it. His reaction if she found out she was trying to go down that same path? It wouldn't be pretty.

He also didn't like Ozpin, and he was the one who had approached her about all of this. Still, Glynda was also involved, which meant it couldn't be all bad, right? Everything was so confusing. So very, _very_ confusing.

She had trouble placing it, but something seemed just a bit _off_ about Sibyl at the moment. He must be worried about her. It was her fault, really. When Sibyl had asked for a bit of space, she'd been a bit too upset about it. She couldn't help but be a bit clingy. For once, though, everything was working out. Sibyl and her _both_ needed a bit of space tonight, and tomorrow, they could figure everything out.

Smiling lightly, Weiss tip-toed to give him a light kiss. It helped ease her stress, and hopefully his, too. "I'm fine, don't worry. I just have a lot on my mind, and I'd like to be alone tonight," she whispered- hopefully- into his ear.

He didn't react for a few moments, though he eventually leaned in and gave her a tight- almost suffocating- hug before letting go. What had him so wound up? It must have been whatever happened with Ironwood. Smiling a bit tensely- Sibyl being upset made her _even more upset-_ she once again cursed not having been able to hear what was going on. Why didn't he trust her? It _had_ to be some serious, because it was hard to make Sibyl so… _angry._

Gah. She was in no position to help Sibyl right now. He was already nervous around the subject, and now she had a whole new wave of issues to deal with. She needed to talk to Glynda tomorrow. Figure out _what_ exactly being the Maiden meant, and get all the details of what was going on, then she could decide if she was worthy. She'd talk to Sibyl before she fully accepted the powers, if she did, but she needed more details before she tried to bring the subject up.

Giving Sibyl one last, gentle smile, she rushed back to her dorm, unknowing of Sibyl's words of loved as she walked away, and the grin of another student as he approached from the shadows.

By the time she returned to her bed, she was glad to find her teammates were all asleep. Ruby was in a mess of blankets while Yang was snoring. Even Blake was asleep. Sif, ever watchful, rose his head and glanced in her direction before resting it once more. It almost felt normal.

She took a deep breath. Everything was going to work out.

* * *

It was very hard not to laugh. Sibyl could be put on a platter and it still wouldn't be a better presentation than this. Smiling lightly, Chester scrolled out from behind the corner of a building he'd been eavesdropping from for awhile now.

"There she goes," He spoke, seeping out of the shadows with a whistle and catching Sibyl's attention, "You bagged quite the looker, I admit. Nothing compared to my own, but…" Sibyl gave a look over his shoulder, staring at him in unconstrained annoyance.

Chester frowned. How rude.

"I am not in the best of moods. Perhaps it is best you leave _,"_ Sibyl said, that guttural growl of his coming out. There was something ironic about that. He really was a wild dog, wasn't he? A soon to be put down one, at that.

Chuckling, Chester waved off Sibyl's words without worry. "Is that anyway to treat a concerned old friend?" Sibyl turned on his heel, marching up until the two faces were inches apart. It seemed he'd stuck a bit of a nerve, hadn't he?

"We were _never_ friends. Not when I learned who you really were." Chester's brow twitched.

"Well, a one-sided friendship is still friendship?" He said, forcing a grin, "After all, you haven't turned me in yet, so it means you must not _completely_ hate me."

Sibyl regarded him silently for a few moments. Chester resisted the urge to grind his teeth. That _brat_ didn't get to judge him. What had he accomplished in his sorry life that gave him the right to judge _?_

"I didn't turn you in, Chester, because I pity you. I pity you for whatever darkness seized your heart and turned you into what you are: a sad, tired little man." Oh, such rich words from a _coward!_ Him, little? No one was more little than the damn undead in front of him. So little, in fact, that he sought purpose in a prophecy _,_ and he _still_ abandoned it!

Chester's smile faded. "Yet here we are. Another land, another time, yet only _one_ of us seems to be stained by the darkness of Oolacile. Peculiar, isn't it?" Before Chester could blink, Sibyl had moved.

Not that Chester would have dodged regardless.

Sibyl gripped him up by his collar, picking him off the ground. "My infection is merely the visible one. Yours crawls beneath the skin," he said, glaring, "It hides, because it's a coward. Just. Like. You."

Why the _nerve_ of that degenerate! Chester sucked in a deep breath, exhaling through his nose, realizing he needed to salvage this situation. "I thought we agreed to let bygones be bygones? I truly am here out of concern, and I have _proof_ of it. Think what you want, Sibyl, but I hardly want this land to end up like Oolacile."

It was a lie on two fronts, but if he were to be honest, he _prayed_ the fool ended up like Artorias. And with that line, he just might...

Sibyl froze, pupils widened as he stared into Chester's own. Hook, line, and sinker. It really is too easy with him.

"Just what _have_ you heard?" Sibyl said, lowering Chester back down to his feet slowly.

He gave a dignified wipe off of his coat, sneering lightly at Sibyl for the ruffling of his uniform. He couldn't get _too_ out of character, after all. "Well, suffice to say, things might get out of hand if you're not away from here soon. I hardly think you'd believe me, so I brought something with a bit more substance."

Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a single scroll and pulled up one video in particular. As it played, just a few minutes before things _really_ got juicy, Sibyl gave Chester a suspicious look.

"You were there, on that ship," he said, an accusing furrowing of the brows accompanying the words. Chester gave an innocent whistle and a shrug.

Sibyl was not so amused.

" _Why_ were you aboard that vessel, Chester. I should have _known_ you were up to no good, you conniving-" Holding up two hands in surrender, Chester tried to play the part of innocence. Not very well, mind you, but he tried.

"I overheard a teacher speaking in concern about your trip. She seemed quite worried about you," He said, watching Sibyl's eyes widen slightly before narrowing once more, "and well… you know me. I'm quite the nosy individual, aren't I?"

Sibyl regarded him coldly for a few moments before nodding in agreement.

"It's believable. You love to stick your nose where it doesn't belong… but perhaps it was fortunate for once. I suppose you used sorcery?" Chester nearly rolled his eyes, but settled for a fake laugh.

"No, just a few rings. But let's not get off subject here- I really am a changed man! I can't fight my baser instincts, but I can use them for good these days. That's what my darling tells me, anyways." Sibyl rose an amused, disbelieving brow.

"I'm curious to meet the woman who manages to control your urges," he said, and Chester let out a hysterical laugh. Oh, they'd meet. Cinder would be laying eyes on Sibyl's skull one of these days. That counted, right?

"Perhaps I'll allow you to be my best man at our wedding," he said, ignoring the urge to gag. At least Sibyl had the same reaction, looking at Chester as if he was insane; the suggestion was, so he hardly disagreed.

Sibyl shook his head, turning back to the video. He could hear his own voice arguing back, and winced lightly when he smashed his fist against the glass. They watched as Weiss left the space, and finally, a few special words were spoken.

" _He's a fool. The abyss could be used to fix all our problems," General Ironwood spat, "He's stubborn, but even the most stubborn can be made to see reason, one way or another."_ Words became muffled and unreadable thereafter, Sibyl shaking the device in anger.

It was like a child tantrum. 'Ol Sibyl had yet to adjust to the times.

"Yes, I had a few… technical difficulties with it. The audio can get a bit spotty; Winter tried to stand up for you," he said, laying the seeds for the next gut punch, "though that didn't last too long."

 _"...I trust you Winter. And while usually I would hesitate, given how close he is with your sister and the latent threat he presents, I feel you deserve to know. But this is strictly classified," Ironwood warned Winter Schnee, and the latter nodded seriously._

 _It was joyus, watching how Sibyl's face winced as Ironwood outlined his darkest secrets._

' _Sibyl is infected with the abyss upon his left eye. We have reason to believe it now acts as a draw to the Grimm, which lends credence to that the abyss is in someway related to the Grimm. Additionally, you've heard of the… events that led to Adam Taurus's death, correct?'_

' _Yes, General. An internal attack with… brutal efficiency, is how I believed it was worded.'_

' _The truth is somewhat more… dark. Sibyl was captured by Adam Taurus, and while undergoing tortue, used the power of that eye of his- the abyss, as he calls it- to channel powerful spells capable of leaving complete holes in White Fang members both with and without aura._

 _Winter seemed more interested than disturbed, though the next words quickly changed that._

' _Additionally, the use of this eye led to bouts of extreme insanity. The girl he rescued claimed she was worried he might attack her.'_

 _Winter's eyes widened. "Is… is he still at risk of this?"_

' _Yes. It's why I feel he should be monitored, and why that abyss needs to be studied. His refusal to use it has to be seeped in fear. Dusk has spoken to me some of the abyss, and I'm convinced if we acknowledge that it is dangerous and don't let it use its full potential, we'll be able to learn much more about it.'_

' _He's a threat to my sister, isn't he?' Winter asked, voice angry. 'She was already severely hurt in the breach, now she's dating someone who could snap and kill half the students at this school?! Why hasn't anyone done anything to stop this, to-'_

' _I've already consulted with Ozpin and we've evaluated his potential threat. It's a definite danger, but his uses far outweigh the risks. We have contingencies in place.'_

Sibyl pushed the scroll away, handing it back to Chester and nearly stumbling. It must have been quite the gut punch. Chester did his best to suppress a smile.

"I think those buffoons may be trying to use the abyss, Sibyl."

He nodded in agreement, slowly. "They… they don't trust me at all, do they?" Sibyl chuckled slowly, which soon turned into full blown laughter. "I bet they already have information on Lordran, too. They've been playing me for a fool, and now Ironwood is going to damn this whole world in the abyss."

"Fools, the lot of them. Playing with things beyond their comprehension, ignoring Dusk's warnings. I think it's obvious what's going to happen," Chester admitted, watching as Sibyl perked up just _barely._

"Don't you think it's a bit weird they didn't touch on the subject of your eye until your _very_ last miracle was cast? " Chester said, "They got all the data they needed out of you, then they moved on to something else." Sibyl nodded, following along like a moth to a flame.

"Sibyl, while I personally hardly _care_ if you get picked apart by scientists, I _do_ care if they tear apart this world I'm living in. You need to leave," Chester explained, idl and uncaring. "Be it tonight, tomorrow morning- it hardly matters. Because if you're here tomorrow night, when they come to try and take you… I'm going to put a bolt through your head and end this charade once and for all."

"T-They're coming for me?" He asked, for once sounding concerned. Chester nodded gravely.

Sibyl shook his head, turning away from Chester. "You're lying. This is all one gigantic deception; you may be nosy, Chester, but even _you_ wouldn't sneak onto an Atlas cruiser just to spy on me! This-"

"I know, I know. I'm not the most reliable source; why, even my source isn't that reliable given it was me eavesdropping on a teacher in tears, but it's all I've got."

"Glynda… she knows, too? Impossible. You can try to fool me, Chester, but Glynda would warn me. Leave before I skewer you for this-"

"You're right. She was going to deliver you a letter, but got summoned to Ozpin's office instead. So… _I_ grabbed it, seeing as how I suspect Ozpin might prevent her from delivering it. I've no idea what's inside," Chester admitted, reaching into his coat and grabbing a letter. Now, here was hoping little Emerald was as ready as she claimed she was.

She said she had memorized Glynda's handwriting from a few different classes; it was time to put it to the test. They couldn't just leave things to chance. If Sibyl tried to confront Glynda, things would go up in smoke.

Destroying a kingdom took precision.

Sibyl took the letter, opening it slowly.

Chester knew the 'message' that was on that blank piece of paper, though the intricacies were a mystery to him. It would mostly confirm Sibyl's own suspicions, and beg him to leave before tomorrow night. Something in there about needing to treat the situation normal lest Ozpin find out. Still, _how_ all of that would actually get portrayed? Emerald would be using a combination of her imagination and Sibyl's own subconscious to fill in the blanks of her semblance's illusion. Sibyl would see both what they needed him to see as well as what he _wanted_ to see, and in his paranoid state?

"You're… you're right, this is her" Sibyl muttered, shocked as he finished reading the letter. It looked as if he had no idea what to do with it. Chester would take the decision out of his hand, somewhat literally.

Extending a hand, he grabbed the letter from Sibyl, who looked like he wanted to both keep it _and_ discard it. The latter won out.

"If we return it, Glynda will see the envelope unsealed and know it got to you."

Sibyl nodded in agreement as his genius idea, though his eyes were still glued to the paper and envelope. Silence engulfed the two as thoughts processed.

Chester watched as Sibyl's mind went round and round, until eventually, he broke, ears spilling forth from his eyes. "My life has been one gigantic joke… but hopefully I can keep it from ending in a tragedy," he uttered, turning to stare at Chester.

"I detest you Chester… but I gave Patches a second chance. I don't care about your sociopath tendencies so long as they're kept in check." He paused, thinking for the right words to say. "You've done all of Vale a service, warning me of this."

"Well, I did take an oath to protect the world."

"...Goodbye, Chester."

As Sibyl walked away, he looked upwards towards the sky as a black crow flew away from Ozpin's office and off into the distance. A chocked sob, masquerading as a laugh, escaped Sibyl, though Chester would admit to being a bit puzzled as to why. Still, when the bastard was finally out of hearing distance, Chester spoke, barely holding back a gut-wrenching laugh."...And good riddance to you," He would have to be a bit nicer to Emerald after this; she really was useful!

In thirty-two hours, give or take a few, Vale was going to burn, and all Sibyl would be able to do is _watch._

* * *

 _ **Tada. A lot of set-up as we near the end. Hopefully last chapter knocked a bit of the rust off. I feel much better about this one, to be honest. Once more, thank you for everyone who continues to follow this story as it nears its conclusion. I never imagined the story to grow as large as it has, and I hope everyone has enjoyed this wild ride as I've continued to develop as a writer. Thank all of you, and have a good October.**_


	21. Perseverance, the Virtue of Man

**Hello friends. I bring another chapter! Thanks for everyone following along for so long. Getting incredibly close to the end.**

* * *

It had been awhile since Blake last felt something was _off,_ but today, that dreadful feeling had returned. It made it extremely hard to enjoy watching Sun and Neptune fight some other double-pair of students from Shade Academy, especially considering her friends were _winning._ The feeling just sat in her stomach, grumbling. Call it instinct, whatever, the point was, the air just seemed… different.

She'd tried figuring out what had her feeling this way. Maybe it was because Sibyl wasn't around? It was a bit weird, actually, considering how supportive he was of anyone who was blessed enough to be considered a friend by him. He would normally be here cheering on Sun, not locked in his room or wherever it was he was. Weiss wasn't around, either, which was equally strange.

While she would have been willing to write off these worries in the past, these days, if anything seemed even slightly off, her alarm bells went off. Even more alarm bells went off when Coco had ended up firing at Yatsuhashi during their fight. For two extremely familiar, competent second year students, the fact that friendly-fire had occurred was unthinkable. At least _that_ she could write off as some sort of semblance, but still.

All together, something was wrong, and she seemed to be the only one willing to acknowledge it. What would it be, she wondered? A White Fang attack by the remnants of what were left in Vale? Grimm? Something… worse?

...Or, maybe she really _was_ being paranoid. She hesitated to say she felt safe, but the fact that Atlas had flown in so many forces made it unlikely anyone would attack. It also helped encourage her that- despite whatever she thought of Atlas- they seemed to be just as paranoid as she was.

Exhaling a breath of deep air, she allowed herself a smile as Sun somersaulted over his opponent, slamming his staff into the back of her head and sending her face first into the ground, aura depleted.

Sun joined Neptune, who was getting beaten back, in combining forces to overwhelm the leftover student. They made short work of him, and Peter, in the announcer box, exploded in excitement, ringing them endless praises.

Just the ego boost Sun needed. She roller here eyes. He was basking in the glory, flexing. Of course he was. Why wouldn't he, the showoff, what with those abs and gleaming muscles and-

"Enjoying the show, Blake?" Blake nearly jumped out of her skin at Yang's words. _Nearly._ Instead she settled for a light glare, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

"He's a showoff," she muttered, ignoring the red tint in her cheeks.

"I didn't hear a no, there." Crossing her arms _somehow_ tighter, Yang laughed, giving her a clap on the back. "Oh, relax Blake. There's nothing wrong with admiring your man," she commented, eyes wiggling.

' _I hate everyone,'_ Blake mused internally, though Yang succeeded in managing to get her to smile, however lightly.

"There we go! You've been so tense today. I've no idea why. This is freakin' awesome!" Blake didn't comment on that, instead staring as Sun and Neptune left the stage, both incredibly excited and happy.

It was pretty awesome. Maybe she was being paranoid. Maybe.

Yang wrapped a hand around her shoulders, pulling her in a bit closer. "I get it, Blake. Things have been an absolute mess. But we stopped the breach. Adam… Adam isn't around anymore. Sibyl has stuff with his eye pretty figured out these days, and Weiss has finally stopped being so bitchy all the time now that she has Sibyl."

"...This isn't about Sibyl, is it?" Yang asked, and Blake shook her head.

"No. He's a great friend," Yang was nice enough to leave it at that, and Blake took her own words to heart. She was fine with Sibyl being with Weiss. She had to be, after all. All her feelings were due to trauma. They had to be.

"You're right, Yang. I think I'm just… not used to things going our way," she concluded, watching as the next four contestants came out to fight in the doubles-round.

"You're not the only one," Yang agreed. "I wonder where Sibyl and Weiss are? You think they'd be here to watch," Yang commented, echoing Blake's own thoughts from earlier. Ruby and Sif were here, after all; they were just hanging out moreso with Jaune's team.

"Who knows. Maybe they're making out in his bedroom. Ah, young love," Yang commented, smiling. Blake rolled her eyes… though, that was very possible. Her heart both warmed and ached at the thought. Turning her attention back to the next battle, she observed and wondered.

* * *

Weiss pursed her lips, standing outside of Glynda's office and hesitating, knuckles inches from the door. It was surprisingly difficult to _knock._ Maybe she should have told Sibyl? He would have barged in there, demanded answers- he was never shy, always confident. If only _he_ could be the Maiden; things would be easier for everyone if that were the case.

But no, she had been chosen, and now, she'd have to choose. Taking a deep breath, her knuckles tapped against the door three times and no more. She didn't hear any noise, but a moment later, the door opened to a… _messy_ looking Glynda. Her usually impeccable hair was a bit shriveled, and her eyes had bags beneath them.

"Weiss?" Glynda questioned, lips moving but no words coming to Weiss's own deaf ears as she blinked. Glynda shook her head a moment thereafter, stepping aside and allowing her to enter. She did so tentatively, looking around Glynda's office. There was a (mostly empty) bottle of opened wine on her desk, a very expensive one of Atlas make. Glynda moved around back to her chair behind her desk, positioning herself carefully before grabbing the wine and pouring two glasses.

Weiss took the one she was offered tentatively, taking a sniff of the liquid and scrunching her face. It didn't smell good. Glynda gestured for her to try it as she herself savored the taste, eventually setting it onto the table slowly.

Nodding in agreement to the suggestion, Weiss took a sip, not sure what to think about the taste. It wasn't all that sweet. Wasn't most wine supposed to be sweet? Shaking her head, Weiss set the glass onto the desk in front of her.

Glynda laid out a notebook, so they both might lay out their questions quickly. She had already written at the top of it. ' _What do you want to know?'_

* * *

 _Midnight, the Day Before_

Sibyl grunted, adjusting the chest-plate resting against his body for a moment before nodding in agreement. It had been some time since he last wore this armor- the armor he had arrived with in this world, armor of Astora's most trusted circle of knights. The helmet had long since been lost, unfortunately, yet he had a knight helm of slightly less make that would suffice in its stead.

That decided his armor. He would wield no shield on this trip; not for the weapons he intended to take. Solaire's longsword, ever faithful, sat at his hip. He could hardly think of leaving it behind.

He retrieved the Blackknight Greataxe from his bottomless box, hefting the large weapon with ease and resting it against his shoulder. It would seem he was all situated, then. Well, mostly situated. He shrunk his bottomless box and put it at his hip. He moved over to his bed, reaching for a picture that Ruby had given him sometime ago.

A picture of team RWBY as it were, one they had made him take. It had been much earlier in his time here; one could tell easily by the disdain Weiss showed to _everyone_ around her. Yang was making some face that had Blake rolling her eyes, and only Ruby was content to simply stand there and _smile._

Sibyl stared at the picture for a few moments, eventually removing the picture from its frame and setting it inside a small pouch on the underside of his chestplate. He walked over to his desk, staring at the letter he'd already written. He'd rewrote it ten times, and he dared to do it ten more times if he were able. But time was of the essence; James Ironwood could not get his grasp on him, lest the world itself be consumed by the abyss.

He has opted to leave his book detailing his spells, instructing Weiss to keep close hold of it in his letter. He kept his art-book with him, uncaring that only a few pages were left.

Standing up tall and proud, as was expected of him, Sibyl gave the room around him one final, longing look. It had grown just as familiar to him as Firelink Shrine. He nodded, opening the door to his dorm and departing.

He did not look back or break stride in hesitance. He could never afford to.

* * *

They were all in danger. If Weiss had taken one thing from her meeting with Glynda, it was that. Not just her friends, not just Beacon, but the _world,_ if what Glynda had told her was true. And it had to be true. Glynda would never lie about something so serious. Glynda, Ozpin- everyone in their little _circle,_ which apparently included Dusk, suspected an attack would be coming soon. Terribly soon.

Was… Was this what Sibyl's life had felt like? She felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. The fate of all her friends. They needed a maiden _now,_ and she was the first- and only real- choice. It finally made sense, how Sibyl would clench his fist when he thought about the… _destiny_ that had been thrust upon him.

Because that's what this felt like. She was going to accept the powers of the Maiden. Who else could? No one. No one was as… uniquely prepared as she was. And she had a support network; she was going to tell Sibyl right away, then the rest of her team afterwards. Glynda had told her to keep it silent, but she scoffed at that.

Sibyl was the strongest person she knew, and having him in the know would only be a boon to whatever defensive efforts they'd make. He just needed to be told. He could be trusted, and she would trust him. It actually made her stomach twist that Glynda didn't seem to trust him with the information.

Shaking her head, she dismissed the thoughts in her head and allowed herself entry into Sibyl's room. They were _way_ beyond knocking for permission. She practically lived here, after all. _"Sibyl?"_ She called out, unable to hear her own voice as she did so, but knowing it had probably carried all the same.

As she looked around, she came to the conclusion that something was… _off._ His dorm was more empty than normal. Things were missing from his desk, and she couldn't even see his bottomless box.

' _...Sibyl?'_ She imagined her voice sounded much, much more meek. Inching forward slowly, she tried to ignore the hammering of her heart as she came to his desk. A letter lay there, his beautiful handwriting sprawled all over the once blank page. It was addressed to her.

' _Dearest Weiss,_

 _It is with a heavy heart that I have been made to leave Beacon. The consequences, were I to stay, are neigh immeasurable. I did not wish to leave. I desire nothing more than to stay with you until the end of my days or until hollowness knocks upon my door, whichever may come first. My hand, however, was forced. They wish to use the infection that haunts me as a weapon against the Grimm, Weiss. I cannot allow such a thing to happen. I saw the abyss consume Oolacile, and I will not allow it to consume Vale. I hardly believed it at the time; the only reason we are able to avoid this fate is a timely warning from a mutual friend, who is in the know and inadvertently sent someone with damning evidence to my aid. I suspect you know of whom I speak of. Please, inform them that I received their warning clear._

 _I do not know when I might see you again, and tears fall unbridled at the thought. I have sought many things in my miserable life, but none more than you. It is why I have left. Your safety is paramount, as are our dearest friends. I have failed more people than I have any right to, and may my soul suffer until eternity for it. That is why I cannot fail now. I refuse to. I am the Chosen Undead; I have slain the Gods themselves, and demons have cowered at my feet. I do not have the right to fail, and thus, I will not. Not anymore._

 _I leave with you the book entailing the true depths of my magical knowledge. I trust you to use it, and use it well, for the prosperity of all. Please, share any information with Yang that is pertinent. I adore all of you, and wish only to see both my students succeed._

 _Let me not mince any words, for I do not know how long my solitude may last. I love you, Weiss Schnee, both now and until the skies themselves fall and the world crumbles at my feet._

 _Yours truly, Sibyl_

Weiss cupped her mouth as tears fell, staining the letter beneath her. T-This couldn't be happening. She stumbled back, sitting on his bed. The bed she'd decided not to sleep in last night, too _distraught_ about the news _._ This wasn't real. she was going to wake up. Sibyl couldn't be _gone!_

He… he couldn't have abandoned her. No, no, whatever he did, he did it with a reason. He kept talking about their safety. About his abyss infection, about someone wanting to use it. She had saw what it did to him once, and she was going to tear whoever even brought up that idiotic idea to shreds. And who was he talking about? Who was in the _know?_ Moreso, who would have warned him?

...Glynda. It had to be Glynda. Weiss almost ripped the letter in her hands, snarling. She didn't waste a second longer, getting to her feet and rushing to Glynda's office.

* * *

Life was exhausting, Glynda decided, pouring herself another cup of wine. Was it mature, to drown her confusion and depression with alcohol? No. Did she feel like that pig-headed Qrow to some degree? Yes, yes she did. Was she ashamed? Sure. Would she stop? No.

She just had to tell _Weiss_ all about how the world had been in a war for forever, and central to this war was about to be _her._ And she hadn't minced words. Weiss may die. Summer Rose had died in this same war, and Glynda would be damned before someone else too kind, too _good_ went down the same road to the same exact fate.

Despite her blunt approach, Weiss had taken it… rather well. Not that Glynda had been surprised by that. She was dating Sibyl, and that boy might be the only thing more ridiculous than the idea of magical maidens existing. It was probably one of the few things that helped calm her nerves.

Sibyl. For so long, they'd thought it would be maidens who were the answer. A more adult game of keep away with much higher stakes. Only recently had Glynda begun to realize her mistakes, and the more she did, the more she found herself believing that what James did was right.

Technology. Advancement. Sometimes Ironwood would even talk about space travel- about _leaving_ Remnant to somewhere more peaceful. The idea didn't seem all that awful. And what better way to jump start advancement than three lost arts? Pyromancy, Sorcery, and Miracles. Things _anyone_ could learn. God, imagine it! Farmers could learn pyromancy and actually have a chance of surviving a stray Grimm.

It wasn't right, trying to put the fate of the world in the hands of _kids._ But here they were…

Glynda despised herself for it. She set her wine glass down, running a tire hand over her face.

She nearly jumped out of her chair when her door was thrown open. Weiss stood there, something clutched in one hand and her face a concoction of anger, sadness, and confusion. She ran up to her desk, thrusting whatever had been in her hand in Glynda's face.

It was a letter. Glynda took it gently, recognizing the handwriting instantly. And as she read, she grew more and more worried. There was a knot in her stomach, and she resisted the urge to just _let go_ with her semblance and send her work-space into a proper mess. It would have vented her frustrations, certainly.

As she reached the end, she frowned. It was clear _she_ was the "mutual friend" Sibyl referred to in his letter, yet she definitely hadn't warned him of anything. Alarm bells were going off in the back of her head, and she was ready to go straight to Ozpin's tower.

Standing up, Glynda paused at the sight of Weiss. She was beyond distraught. The beautiful girl looked so… disheveled. Glynda moved around her desk, reaching forward and wrapping Weiss in a tight, tight hug. The girl sobbed into her shoulder.

None of this was right, yet here they were. As the sobs slowed and only a few tears fell, Glynda separated gently. She quickly wrote a message. ' _I have no idea what Sibyl is talking about. I'll bring this to Ozpin at once,'_ Glynda informed, pausing before scribbling another note. ' _Please, Weiss. Stay strong. I fear there is more to this than either of us know.'_

Judging by the grave look on Weiss's look, she knew it too- and suspected. "I want the Maiden's powers. _Now."_ Weiss informed, and Glynda nodded.

It was only right. They had no more time to waste.

* * *

"This is bad," James Ironwood declared, pacing back in-forth through Ozpin's office, Glynda and Dusk his only company. Ozpin had left with Weiss, the girl demanding the Maiden's powers and the former being all too happy to comply. That left _him_ and Dusk getting much more pertinent information from Glynda.

Sibyl was missing. Someone had driven him away through deceit last night, because that was the last time Weiss had seen him. The answer as to why he was driven away was a simple one: something important was going to happen incredibly soon, and whoever Salem had sent to do her bidding wanted him gone. It made sense; he was incredibly strong.

Strong enough to likely fight and beat whoever was sent to retrieve the Maiden. And _that_ was the game, definitely. This was all about the Maiden. Still, while this was bad, they had measures in place beyond Sibyl. There was a reason he'd brought his fleet here, regardless of what Ozpin, Qrow, or Glynda had thought about it at the time.

"Yes, James, _thank you."_ Glynda told him, irritated and spiteful, fists clenched in tight little balls. He might have found the sight endearing in its own way if it wasn't directed at him. Also, if they all _weren't_ in danger. Glynda took a deep breath, pushing aside a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face. "It's clear that something is going to happen soon."

Dusk sighed, staring at the ground. "It does not bode well. To think that the savior has been moved through deceit?" She murmured, clearly as worried as they all were.

"Sibyl's valuable, yes," James conceded, but he had come to Vale before he even knew about Sibyl to the fullest extent. "But with everything I've brought, the security measures we have in places-"

Glynda slammed her fist on Ozpin's desk. "No, James. We have had disastrous event after disastrous event. We need to prepare for every inevitability, even the thought that your entire defense may be compromised."

He stiffened at the thought, eventually scoffing. The Atlas military was his pride and joy,and he trusted his men beyond a reasonable doubt. They weren't compromised, and not for a lack of trying. Plenty of agents had tried and been found out. "Atlas only employs the best, Glynda, and I have upped security measures everywhere. We _are_ prepared for every inevitability." He said coolly, secure in his trust of his people.

"I often thought the same," Dusk said, forlorn, and James felt himself stiffen up at the reminder that she had once been a similar position as he was. Still, while similar, they were also different. Her fight had been against a literal corrupting force, an infection, a natural disaster. Their society had been more feudal, not as advanced scientifically as Atlas and all of Remnant was.

No one had more advanced tech than they did. Not even Salem, given that she preferred to rely on her favored beast monstrosities over modern science. That was _one_ thing he felt he could be sure of.

Things teetered off for a moment before Glynda spoke again. "James, be honest. Did you ever mention to Sibyl that you might try to use the abyss for anything? He seemed very sure in his letter."

He didn't say anything for a few moments, musing if he ought to tell the truth. He had, obviously. It had been his best attempt at making Sibyl see that the abyss could be more than the corrupting force they saw it as; it could be their savior. If they could harness even just a bit of its ability to attract Grimm, its uses would be endless. The others would never see it that way, however. They were too sentimental.

"I did," he conceded, Glnyda's eyes narrowed as he did so, "but I would never _forcefully_ use it, or take it against his will. I am no monster." He paused, seeing the stares the other two were giving. He hadn't updated anyone recently about the potential of the magic. Now seemed as good a time as any. "But the abyss, it acts as a draw, Glynda! The Grimm are attracted to it, and if we managed to harness even a _fraction_ of that ability, we could draw all the Grimm into killzones, we could-"

"You… you must have said something. Maybe not to him, but in private. _Someone_ heard you, James. _What. Did. You. Say?"_ Glynda's tone demanded an answer.

He shook his head; nobody in Atlas was bold enough to spy on him. Besides, it had only been himself and Winter in that room, and he would never dare think of _her_ betraying him. Yet a small portion of his mind was panicking. He _had_ said a few things that, taken out of context, could be quite damning. He couldn't remember the exact words, but he remembered the context.

"I was frustrated," he said, his own fists clenching at the idea of this all being _his_ fault, "that he refused to use it. I spoke to Winter in private, mentioned that one day he'd see reason. I… I also admitted that he was a potential threat to Weiss-"

" _General,"_ Dusk said, voice beyond soft and _betrayed._ James gritted his teeth, shaking his head and trying to focus back on Glynda- and he had never seen Glynda so angry in his life, and as she approached him with the attempt to maim, the elevator door opened. Ozpin walked in, along with one Weiss Schnee.

He was thankful for the interruption.

"It's done. Weiss now has the powers of the Maiden," Ozpin declared, and that, at least, was a major relief. The Maiden was no longer immobile, and Amber was no longer forced to hold onto a life that had, by all accounts, already ended.

Weiss, though, the girl moved with a different stride as she looked around the room, her eyes cold as steel. She was ready for war. Good. That made two of them.

"I want to know everything. Now." Weiss said, staring at all of them with no love lost. James shifted, crossing his arms and realizing that, while they had a Maiden, it was also a broken Maiden. She would be at risk until they fixed her hearing. It was too essential to situational awareness-

"It would seem that, upon absorbing the Maiden's power, the influx of aura was enough to heal Weiss's hearing issues, as well." Ironwood nodded at Ozpin's words, glad to hear that, at least. Weiss hand slowly lowered to her stomach, and it would seem that her other wound had not healed in quite the same way.

"Tell me why Sibyl's gone. Tell me what is going on _now."_ Weiss demanded, and James nearly interrupted her with a scoff for _demanding_ things, but Glynda's glare and Dusk's disapproving stare stopped him from doing anything but shuffling awkwardly. He was already in deep waters, and he shouldn't let his own frustrations with the situation make him act a fool.

" _James,_ in his infinite wisdom," Glynda seethed, "seemed to have been spied on when he was _considering_ the uses of Sibyl and the abyss, and how it might be able to draw in Grimm. It seems his words were taken _out of context,_ and someone, somehow, told Sibyl with enough evidence that he believed them."

Wind was blowing, and James realized it was coming from Weiss a moment later. Ah, yes. She was the maiden now, wasn't she? "Something's going to happen," Weiss said, her eyes trained on him in anger, "Sibyl's the stronger person I know. If this _Salem_ wanted him out of Vale, we're going to get attacked. We need to cancel the tournament, now _."_

Ozpin shook his head. "While I agree that something is sure to happen, we can't cancel the tournament. Were we to do that, a kink in the armor would appear; the public would lose trust in our ability to protect them. Fear would grow to an all time high, drawing in even more Grimm-"

Then what happens if an attack occurs tomorrow and _people_ die, Headmaster?" Weiss asked, stepping forward as the wind continued to blow around her. "A-Are you so concerned with _image_ that you're willing to sacrifice lives?!"

Ozpin met her stare deliberately, probing her defenses and getting a response ready. James didn't envy the man. "This is a very delicate situation, Weiss. Even if we cancelled the tournament, we have no certain way of knowing when an attack might come."

"You've _got_ to be kidding me! We could track down Sibyl easily enough, right? It might take a few days, but we could do it. Getting Sibyl out of Vale was a _temporary_ solution to whatever they have planned."

James conceded that it was a solid thought process. He could have Atlas scour for Sibyl easily enough, explain that this was a misunderstanding. Sibyl was by no means out of their grasp; he'd only been sent away temporarily. If he put his forces to it, it would likely take anywhere between three days to a week.

It was also minutes until midnight, and the tournament final would be tomorrow at noon. They hardly had _time_ to track down Sibyl. James ran a hand over his face, beyond frustrated. How, exactly, could this situation get much worse?

The elevator opened again, and this time, Winter Schnee entered unannounced. "General, sir, Roman Torchwick broke out of confinement approximately ten minutes-" She paused, seeming to realize that there were more people than she had thought there might be.

James felt his heart drop. "Roman Torchwick broke out?" She nodded at his question, and he felt fear for the first time in awhile.

Then the alarms sounded.

* * *

Cinder, while she had expected this to happen, _was_ irritated. "He betrayed us," Emerald said, voice scathing. Cinder couldn't have said it better herself, and when she found that little weasel, she was going to snuff his life out and watch his eyes go still in death.

He had decided to try and be a hero. Had he not learned in all this time that the heroes didn't win? Did he think she was stupid enough to put all her plans on _his_ loyalty? All his betrayal did was accelerate her plans and get rid of some of the… theatrics she had planned for tomorrow. It didn't change anything but when she acted.

"I told you he would," Chester added, a pointed reminder that he had been wanting to kill him since the two met. He was rather relaxed about it, but that was his personality, she supposed. Still, they couldn't afford to wait _too_ long. If Roman broke out early, then James Ironwood was going to hear about it soon.

She blew a bit of air, tilting her head as she felt a bit of regret that she wouldn't get to embarrass Ozpin directly tomorrow, in front of the entire _world._ "It was an eventuality. Still, if Roman thinks his little change of heart is going to matter this late, he's as foolish as he is annoying. Chester, contact our agents aboard the other ship. I'm going to call our friends from the White Fang, then Salem, and we're going to… accelerate our plans. Vale burns tonight."

"Joy," Mercury muttered, thoroughly bored.

* * *

Things were going _almost_ according to plan, Roman decided. Not that bitch Cinder's plans, but his own plans. Plans where 'ol Roman Torchwick made out on top, and she was put six feet beneath the dirt. Preferably painfully. He and Neo were going to do their good deed for the decade and then go back to stealing, pillaging, and killing.

All of this had mostly been at Neo's discretion. Roman, for better or for worse, had been stuck in a jail cell. She'd done all the leg work. She'd bugged him; a tag on the back of his armor when he'd finally made his leave from Beacon. She'd monitored him day in, day out, kept track with all of Cinder's tireless tasks to distract her.

She was damn good at her job.

They had already left the Atlas carrier via a dropship, making way to try and follow the tracker. Sure, the other Atlas airships had taken to try and shoot him down, but he was a decent pilot. He could avoid a few shots... probably. Sibyl was heading west to Mountain Glenn, which… was not great, because that was where the bulk of the Grimm would likely be coming from.

Roman cursed as his procured dropship rocked, another shot from the Atlas airship hitting. Really, he was surprised this thing was flying. Atlas really _did_ have the best tech. As they finally seemed to reach the edge of its range, he spared a look back. One of the airships was turning to face the other two…

It fired, and Roman had known better than to hope, but it was clear Cinder had plans other than him. Their plan was going to still happen. He just hoped that whatever the hell he was doing was enough to limit the damage.

As the sirens sounded from far behind him, he tensed. He stared ahead, waiting for the inevitable swarm of Grimm. He didn't have to wait long. They moved like a flock of crows, blackening the clear sky. He wasn't going to have a choice; according to the bug Neo had planted, Sibyl wasn't _too_ far off, but he wasn't exactly close.

They couldn't afford to fly this thing into the swarm of Grimm. He was going to have to land it somewhere and continue on foot. Damn it. It took around a minute of scanning to find a place suitable to land, and by the time his dropship had touched the ground, the Grimm passed overtop of them like a wave. He was sure some on land would be following soon, but he had to have had enough time to get ahold of that crazy bastard and try to fly him back. Try to stop Cinder's plans.

He had no time to lose. "Come on, Neo. Cinder's plans aren't going to ruin themselves," he grumbled, leaving the cockpit, grabbing his cane, and grimacing at the fact that running through all this brush was going to ruin his coat.

* * *

"Y-Yang, what's going on?" Ruby asked quietly, hugging her scythe close as she, Blake, and her sister finished getting dressed out. They had been sleeping peacefully when the alarms sounded; the whole school was in a flurry of movement. Team JNPR wasn't too far away, also getting ready to face whatever threat was big enough to have the alarms going off.

"Clearly, we're under attack," Blake explained, giving her blade one last look over. "And we don't have any time to lose. I wonder where Weiss is, though…"

Yang shook her head, a snarl on her face. "I'm sure she's doing something important. We need to get out there, though." As Ruby prepared to ask get out there to face _what,_ the monitors all amidst the school lit up, a disheveled Glynda Goodwitch appearing.

"Dear students, these alarms are _not_ a drill. Vale is under attack; Atlas airships have been compromised, and Grimm are approaching in a swarm. Some have already arrived, but that number will only grow. Rapid response is a _must._ All first year students are to report to the following stations for handling: first years, Professor Port's classroom. Second years, report to Professor Oobleck's classroom. Third years with Atlas specialist Winter Schnee in the arena, and all fourth years are to meet with me in front of the school."

Ruby tensed, looking around her to see how everyone else was reacting. Everyone looked so… _ready._ And she was, too, but she was also scared. This was _different._ The air wasn't even the same as the breach.

Blake placed a hand on her shoulder, and she jumped. "Ruby, we're going to be fine. We need to get to Professor Port's class, though."

Ruby took a deep breath, nodding in agreement with Blake. They were going to be fine. They were going to save Vale. "Shouldn't we try to find Weiss?" Yang asked.

It was a hard question. She was their teammate… but Vale was under attack. They couldn't afford to waste time trying to find her, and besides, Weiss would probably find _them. "_ Vale needs our help, Yang. I trust Weiss to find us."

All three shared a look, her sister and Blake nodding in agreement. Steadying herself, she breathed deeply. Weiss was going to be safe. They needed to move. Now.

* * *

Everyone around her were scrambling, but all she could do was watch as one of the Atlas airships fell to the ground below, one of the others having turned upon it and fired. _Traitors._ Not just to Atlas, but to the human race. Who… who could side with Salem? The Grimm? They wanted to devour _all of them!_

"Weiss, you need to report to your station like the rest of the first years," Ozpin declared, the gleam in his eyes deadly serious. "The less you stand out, the better. You're at risk as a new Maiden. They are here to _find you_ and kill you." Weiss nodded, scrambling to the elevator .

"Do _not_ use your powers. If you are exposed as the new Maiden, all their focus will be on you."

Weiss didn't say anything as the elevator door closed. She needed to get out there. She needed to be with her team, be there to help them, to support them. And as far as she was concerned, these new powers were _hers._ She would use them however she wanted, and that was in protection of Vale.

As she left Ozpin's tower, making way towards where the rest of Beacon's first years would be, she missed a woman dressed in red entering the tower, just as the woman in red missed her leaving it. Someone else saw her, though, and he followed.

The sky was black. The Grimm were arriving, Weiss realized, seeing the seemingly endless number of Griffin that now began to fill the sky above Vale. It was awful, but she'd be doing everything she could to stop the-

 _Shlink._ The moment Weiss heard the noise, she leapt to the side, rolling back to her feet and trying to see _what_ had just fired at her.

Her answer was simple. It was a man wielding a massive crossbow, a black coat hiding most of his figure. A red rose was pinned on the front of the jacket, around his chest, and a porcelain mask, shaped in an eerie, creepy grin blocked his face. "A little princess, all by her lonesome…" He spoke, his voice distinct. Familiar.

"I promised I'd find you and end you, didn't I?"

It was him. _Him._ The one who she'd fought on that train, the one who had nearly killed her. The one responsible for the ugly scar on her stomach. The one who had rendered her deaf until this very night.

She withdrew her blade, the wind picking up around her in anger. The man tilted his head, pausing briefly before breaking out in laughter. "O-Oh my, you? They made _you_ the Maiden? And you were so kind to just _reveal_ this to me…"

Weiss didn't say anything, instead probing how to deal with him. He had a new weapon, a ranged one. He probably still used throwing knives; he had been too proficient with them. "I can't kill you… but I can do _everything_ else."

Calm. She needed to stay calm; he was trying to goad her into quick action, to make her sloppy. "Trying to act so calm, hmm? Well, let me let you in on a little secret, princess: I'm the one who sent Sibyl away."

Weiss froze, and that seemed to be the reaction he'd wanted. He laughed again. "You…" Weiss whispered, unaware that the wind around her was picking up more and more harshly, "I am going to _kill you!"_ She roared, using her semblance to form a glyph behind her. As she shot forward, the winds became icy.

This man was going to die tonight, alone and afraid… _she would make sure of it._

* * *

Sibyl heard the sirens, and it had been the exact moment a sinking pit of regret had begun to form in his stomach. He'd been anxious ever since he left, worried about Weiss and the others. What might James Ironwood do to _them_ in an attempt to manipulate him? But he realized it now, just like he'd realized it back then.

He had been deceived. Chester had, once again, made a fool out of him. Chester hadn't lied, but rather, twisted the truth. There had to have been something that was missing that he hadn't been shown. Why had he been such a fool? He'd thought it to be Glynda's handwriting, yet he couldn't help but wonder. Had he read through it too quickly? Had his suspicious mind been willing to overlook things?

Whatever the answer was, it didn't matter. Vale was far, far behind him, and he'd never be able to get there quickly enough to do anything. He waited, and then he watched as Grimm engulfed the skies above him, all blowing past him without a care in the world towards Vale.

He could hear more, stampeding in the distance. He couldn't make it back to Vale in time, but he would do his damn best to thin what beasts came by him. The first to come through the brush was a Beowolf. Sibyl flung his axe upwards, catching it underneath the chin, the axe catching halfway through its skull.

Roaring, Sibyl used all of his strength to force it all the way through; its detached head rolled away uselessly. More Grimm came by, some running past him. It _angered_ him. Channeling his pyromancy, he shoved his palm against the ground; pillars of flame shot up all around, hitting multiple Grimm that had previously been rushing by him, but the flames were enough that not even the Grimm would ignore him any longer.

Unknowingly to him, a certain red-haired thief also saw them.

As an Ursa Major swung at him with its sharp claws, he spun backwards, avoiding the strike and using the momentum of his spin to carry his axe straight through the beast's torso. He was given no quarter thereafter, ducking as another Beowolf leapt straight for his head.

He rolled to the side, forming a Chaos Fireball in his hand as he regained his balance. He launched it in an instant, catching the Beowolf that had attacked him. He didn't watch as the flames of chaos burned through its flesh, but he certainly heard its cries of anguish.

Letting loose a stream of flame, he pushed back a pair of Beowolves and an Ursa to his left, leaping through the obscurity of the fire and cleaving into the back of one of the Beowolves; the other continued to cry as he increased the intensity of his flame, burning it alive.

The Ursa charged at him on all fours, and he kicked out with his foot, armored boot catching it on the face and sending it staggering to the side. He put his freehand's palm on its head and cast Great Combustion: its skull exploded.

Next another Grimm he had learned about charged into his small clearing. A Goliath, an elephant-like Grimm said to live to very old age and be incredibly intelligent. He would destroy it with prejudice.

As it charged at him, intent on crushing him beneath its massive feet, he rolled to the side. It attempted to swing with its head, hoping its tusks might skewer him alive. They did not; instead, he took a step back as a Beowolf leapt at him. The beast, instead, found itself impaled upon the Goliath's tusks. The Beowolf's corpse helped obscure the beast's vision, giving it a large blindspot.

He took advantage, charging at it and leaping with a roar, bringing his axe against its hide. The axe broke through it as easily as it did demon's, and as the Goliath reared back in pain, Sibyl found himself off the ground, his axe lodged in deep.

Summoning a Chaos Fireball, he slammed it into the same spot as his weapon before putting his feet against the beast's side, pushing off and tearing his axe free. He swung it as he controlled his fall to the ground, catching an Ursa in the face and sending it to the ground. The leftover flames from his fireball began to seep into the Goliath's wound, burning it internally.

And the Chaos Flame, as long as he willed it, _would not go out._ The Goliath began rampaging in anguish, flailing wildly in an attempt to keep its insides from burning. It failed, but succeeded in widening his clearing and taking out a few stray Grimm.

It reared back one more time, giving a cry of anguish before it crumbled and fell to the side, catching a Beowolf beneath its massive frame and crushing the minor beast. He didn't pause for a second to admire the carnage; no, he turned and summoned another fireball, approaching the next group of Grimm that _dared_ to try and pass him.

He would fight until he could fight no longer… and Sibyl could fight for a very, _very_ long time.

* * *

"Where's the Maiden, Ozpin?" Cinder demanded, standing across from the man she was going to burn to ash. He was staring out that window, back turned to her, watching as Vale was falling. He was _ignoring her,_ and Cinder wasn't very fond of being ignored.

"Do you think you'll win today?" He asked, tone _bored._

She smirked. "I know we will." It was obvious, wasn't it? Atlas had been their only hope against the Grimm. They were coming in overwhelming force; civilians were confused, scared, and the sight of the only Atlas flagship in the air firing _upon_ their city did nothing to ease any of that.

"Even if Vale falls, you'll have won nothing." She felt her brow twitch in annoyance at his lecturing tone, "We are stronger than Salem thinks. Human perseverance is something that cannot be measured." Ozpin paused as if admiring the view outside.. "It was very bold of you to come and challenge _me_ without assistance." He finally turned around, facing her down. Ozpin was dangerous, yes… and even she wasn't so bold as to risk her plan failing because she didn't know his combat capabilities.

So she had a plan for backup. And as an ear-piercing roar shattered whatever hope may have remained for the citizens of Vale, Cinder smiled. The Wyvern had arrived, and with its help, Ozpin's tower would fall, followed by Vale.

"Still confident, Ozpin?" He looked shaken, at least as much as someone as passive as he could _look_ shaken.

Cinder didn't flinch as the Grimm Wyvern slammed against the tower she was standing in, breaking one wall and shaking the entire building. It was a second later that she moved in a blur of flame, intent on ending Ozpin's miserable existence.

* * *

They'd been moved to the city, Professor Port having given each team a section of the city to hold as the police escorted civilians. It was like the breach all over again yet somehow _worse._ Yang hadn't thought that to be possible, but Vale had been a weird place lately. And as she met a pack of Beowolves with fervor, Blake and Ruby behind her, she'd admit to being scared.

There was no Atlas to help them. The only airship belong to Atlas had been hijacked and shot down the other two, and now, it was firing at any sort of dropship or airship that tried to take to the air. Civilians were having to be evacuated via _boat,_ which didn't do much to ease her worries.

Yang ducked beneath a swing of an Ursa's claw, punching upward and shattering its jaw while she conjured a fireball in her off hand, swinging it against the same Ursa's head and ending its life.

Ruby rushed ahead in a blur of roses, slashing rapidly with her scythe while Blake provided cover to the both of them, taking out and Grimm that survived the onslaught of the two sisters. The issue, then, was that there was _no end to the Grimm._ The streets were crawling with them, and if that wasn't worse, the griffins above were another worry, not to mention that… that _dragon._ There was a Grimm dragon, and Yang didn't have the first clue how to deal with that.

Fortunately, the Griffin were the only ones attacking them, and they were lucky enough to have a straightforward way to defeat them. As another Griffin swooped down, intent on attacking from above, Yang conjured a stream of flames when it got to the point of no return in its flight towards the ground. It cried in pain, taking the full brunt of a Flame Whip. Ruby wasted no time switching to her rifle form, taking aim and splitting its head with a well-placed bullet.

The Griffin fell to the ground ungracefully, pushing up dirt when it impacted the cold, hard stone below. Yang was given no more time to gaze on it when a Deathstalker showed itself rampaging down the street. She spared a glance at her two teammates, the two nodding in an unspoken agreement of attack.

Yang took position in an alleyway while Blake made to the destroyed rooftops.

Ruby took aim and fired a single shot, intent on piercing one of its many eyes. She succeeded, and it roared in anger, immediately turning to face the huntresses. Ruby didn't stop firing, trying to keep its attention. Yang prepared a Great Fireball, the large, powerful cast weightless in her hand.

As the Deathstalker reached her position, she heaved it, the large fireball exploding against its face and stunning it briefly. Blake took that moment to leap off the rooftops, aiming for the orange sack of poison by its tail. She slashed through it easily, leaving a jagged cut at the front of the stinger bag; Ruby readied her aim and fired, her round piercing where Blake had cut it open and causing the sack of poison to explode.

Yang charged its face, swinging her fists as much as she could to stagger it for an extra moment; she barely leapt to avoid a pincer catching her torso. As she did so, she laid her open palm against where a crack had formed on its face mask. Channeling Great Combustion, she allowed it to cast, the explosives flames seeping through the cracks of its armored skull and killing it.

The explosion also launched her back, and she landed with a roll. The Deathstalker was dead, and the three of them shared a look of brief joy before ironing it out. _One_ of the Deathstalkers were dead. Who knew how many were in the city?

Life gave no time for rest, and as the three of them set off to head to their next destination, they didn't realize they were being shadowed by two students with less than noble intentions, waiting to strike.

* * *

Sibyl was surrounded by carnage by the time Roman and Neo finally found him, a sea of dead, fading Grimm all around him, including two Deathstalkers, a couple Griffins, and a Goliath. He was busy cleaving apart a Beowolf to notice them in an instant, but when he swung his axe and the Beowolf was flung across the clearing, he gave another scan around his area, looking for whatever else might be ready to attack him.

Then he saw them, and he froze for a moment before his posture _changed._ He was definitely angry. Who could blame the guy?

He approached them quickly, and Roman wasn't sure if he should be glad or not that Sibyl had his visor down. He was dragging his greataxe behind him, over the corpses of Grimm and along the dirt. When he finally stopped in front of the two, he spoke. "Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you _right this moment,"_ he seethed.

Roman wasted no time in speaking. "Cause I'm _here_ to help you, damn it! Cinder's trying to bring Vale down in flames, and I don't know why, but they sure as hell wanted you gone, pal! I've got a transport to try and bring you back."

Sibyl scoffed, flipping up his visor and revealing his single good eye and a myriad of blood running down his face. "Do you see the Grimm that flock around us, you fool!?" Roman conceded: he had a point. They wouldn't be able to approach Vale with the number of griffins in the sky, not to mention that damn _dragon._

"Well, listen, pal, I'm just trying to do something! Vale is going to be finished if you don't reach into your bag of tricks and ruin Cinder's plans like you seem to have a penchant for doing!" Roman said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He'd been hoping that moving at night would delay Cinder's information network and he might have been able to pick up the bastard in time, but Cinder's response had been quicker than he had hoped it would be.

"There _are_ no solutions, you good for nothing thief! I could try to draw them to me with whatever draw the Abyss seems to have on them, but what good would it do? I'm hardly _that_ far from Vale. They would snuff me out like a torch before continuing their attack!"

Roman blinked. "Wait, you can draw the Grimm to you?" Sibyl grunted, crossing his arms and giving a glance around the clearing. Neo was busy taking care of any Grimm that crossed their path.

"Yes, for as much as it concerns you, you _bastard._ I ought to kill you where you stand. You helped orchestrate this!" Sibyl took a step closer, and Roman resisted the urge to gulp as he could _feel_ Sibyl's breath against his face. He was a very, very scary individual.

Roman took a step back, raising his hands in surrender. "And now I'm trying to fix it. You said you were worried about the Grimm being too near for that whole draw them in thing?" Sibyl nodded, clearly irritated with every word that came out of his mouth.

Which is why he was trying to keep it to a minimum. "Me and Neo have a transport. We could try to put you somewhere far away, then you can do your weird voodoo magic and get those Grimm the fuck out of Vale!"

Sibyl paused, his one eye lighting up with understanding. "You may be onto something. Very well, I won't kill you _until_ you escort me to this ship. Let us make haste."

Roman breathed in relief, though he had to wonder how this crazy bastard was going to survive drawing _all_ the Grimm to him. "...Is this going to be a suicide mission, pal? Cause I didn't exactly sign up for _that."_

Sibyl shook his head. "I've no intention to die if I can help it. The effects of the Abyss on the Grimm can cause them to get a bit… _chaotic._ The herd should thin themselves out in their haste to reach me, and I should be able to deal with whatever is left.

Well, it was a surefire better plan than he had. Roman yelled for Neo, and the three took off to the Atlas dropship he'd left in a clearing… _somewhere._ Neo seemed to know where she was going, so they'd just follow her and hope to whatever God there was that she wasn't as dumb as he was in forgetting to mark the way they came.

That would be a really embarrassing way for this to end.

* * *

 **Another chapter. We're in the end-game now. Probably another 2-3 chapters before this long journey will have been complete. I appreciate everyone who's followed me this long. This chapter is a bit intentionally "rushed" feeling; with Cinder's hand being forced earlier, things are both more organized and more chaotic. I'm debating between two endings, and it's pretty tough to decide how I want to go about it. My desire for a happier ending is at war with my desire for a bittersweet ending. Decisions to be made, but I'll be happy with whichever one I go with, I imagine. This isn't impulse; I've fought with these two endings since I started writing this.**


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